Bindings
by misanthrope1
Summary: Hogan's men acquired a lot of new skills in Germany. Somethings they kept to themselves...
1. Chapter 1

I don't know when it first began. Not the exact date, that is. Now I can trace it back to Newkirk's fever, the three night and three day nightmare. I honestly believed he was lost then, his skin turning almost transulucent and his eyes sinking deep into his skull. I couldn't find any real sources for this fever, any injuries other than some deep gouges and scratches down his shoulder and chest. And oddly enough, he remained lucid and aware. Continually burning, his skin alternating between flushed red and yellow grey and always dry, I tried everything from icepacks to a tub of water to break the fever. Nothing worked. The fever would fall then rekindle and Newkirk would toss and turn, grinding and gnashing his teeth.

Telling Colonel Hogan Newkirk was dying on that second day was the hardest thing I've ever done. The Colonel cares for all his men but his command crew are special. They risk their lives daily, follow him no matter what. All of us help out. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter make it work. "What do you mean, he's dying?"

"Nothing is bringing the fever down. Even Klink's doctor has no idea."

Colonel Hogan walked over, brushed Newkirk's hair back with a slightly trembling hand. Newkirk opened his eyes, gave Hogan a wan smile. "Hi, gov," he whispered.

"Hey, Newkirk."

"Feeling a bit better, gov. I'll be fine."

"I know. Get some sleep." I watched the Colonel settle next to Newkirk, touch his hand. Newkirk fell asleep and I exhaled.

"Good. He hasn't been sleeping."

Hogan nodded and his eyes turned shadowy. "Wilson, would pencillin help?"

"Maybe if we could get it." I swallowed hard. "It may not work, sir. He's simply burning out."

I watched Colonel Hogan's face harden. "No. He's not leaving this way." He grasped Newkirk's hand. "Stay with us, Peter." He stood, squeezed Newkirk's hand. Newkirk opened his eyes, stared at the Colonel. I didn't understand the look they shared nor the whispers Newkirk uttered. He fell back asleep and Colonel Hogan looked at me. "I'll be back," he said. "Has he eaten?"

"Very little."

He nodded and left. I laid fresh, cold rags on Newkirk's face, stripped off his damp shirt. His skin blazed under my fingers and I felt his heart racing even while he slept. When Colonel Hogan returned, LeBeau followed him with a covered pot that smelled incredible. Colonel Hogan glanced at me. I looked away and he sat down. LeBeau sat next to Newkirk, smiling as Newkirk's nostrils twitched and his eyes opened and widened. As LeBeau fed Newkirk, I took Colonel Hogan aside. We talked quietly. "Pencillin?" I finally asked.

The Colonel's eyes flashed. "We'll get it. London's dragging their feet but we'll get it."

"Mon Colonel?" The Colonel and I turned. LeBeau gestured. Newkirk slept again, fingers clenching reflexively. "What is wrong?" LeBeau demanded. "He ate some but he is still hot. _Very_ hot."

I couldn't answer him. I only laid a hand on Newkirk's neck, winced at the blistering temperature raising from his skin. LeBeau looked at me. "Is he dying?" he asked in a whisper.

"No." Hogan touched Newkirk. "He'll be fine."

I rarely get mad at the Colonel. He's a terrific man. This outright lie infuriated me. "Sir, he's self-combusting!" I hissed.

"He'll be fine," the Colonel repeated. He looked down at Newkirk. As if reading his mind, Newkirk opened his eyes. He blinked, peering around glassily.

"Gov?"

"I'm here."

"Louie?"

"Oui, mon ami."

"Andrew? James?" That startled me. Hardly anyone uses Kinch's first name. Heck, hardly anyone knows it.

"I can get them," LeBeau said.

"Don't go," Newkirk whispered. "Stay."

LeBeau looked at Colonel Hogan. "Of course," the Colonel replied, nodding to LeBeau. They both sat down and began talking to Newkirk. I walked out, grabbed a bite to eat, and told Kinch and Carter to join the Colonel.

"How's Newkirk?" Carter asked eagerly.

I looked at him and then at my tasteless food. "He's alive, Carter," I replied. I felt Kinch's knowing gaze. Carter looked at me suspiciously. Then he left. Kinch studied my face.

"He's dying." Not a question. I looked at him, nodded.

"I can't get the fever to break. Neither Klink's doctor or I can figure out what's going on. And Newkirk's totally lucid which is odd. Normally that high of a fever makes a patient hallucinate." I look at Kinch. "You should see him. He was asking for you."

Kinch nodded and left. When I returned to the infirmary, the men all clustered around the bed. I stepped over to the bed. Newkirk smiled, skin a sickly sallow grey. "Hey, mate," he uttered.

"Hey."

"Klink was here," Carter said. "He brought Newkirk some schnapps."

The Colonel spent the night with Newkirk. I came in the next morning, found the Colonel holding Newkirk's shoulders as Newkirk convulsed. "Peter, stop!" he blurted. Newkirk uttered a choked cry and stilled. I pulled a sedative, inhaling as I felt muscles twist under my hands.

"How long has he been convulsing?" I asked. I injected Newkirk quickly.

"20, 30 seconds."

I nodded. "I'll watch him, sir. Get some rest." Newkirk stilled as the sedative took effect.

"He rests easier with company." Colonel Hogan touched Newkirk's shoulder and Newkirk's hand reached out to clasp his. I started forward but the bright, unnatural gleam in Newkirk's eyes made me stop. The Colonel murmured to him and Newkirk grinned.

"Go on, gov. I'll be fine."

I stayed with Newkirk, gave him water and aspirin. Newkirk's fever rose and fell. Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, and the Colonel constantly came and went. LeBeau brought broth and tea, fed the half concious Newkirk with great patience. "He is too ill, too sick," LeBeau said. "And what can we do?"

"Be with him," I said. I looked at LeBeau. "I'm sorry LeBeau. I don't know what else we can do. He's being incinerated from the inside."

LeBeau gulped. We turned as Carter came in. Carter looked at us and sat next to Newkirk. As the hours crept by, Kinch came and took a place beside Carter. "The Colonel's getting medicine," he said. "Hang on, Peter."

"Can't. Go. Alone." Newkirk opened his eyes, stared at Kinch. "He. Needs. Someone." Each word rasped through fever dried vocal cords. I checked Newkirk's tempature and exhaled. 105.3. It was increasing again. I bit my lip. He simply couldn't survive this much longer.

"I'm going with him," LeBeau reassured Newkirk.

"Hurry. Back."

"Oui, mon ami."

The Colonel and LeBeau brought nothing. Heavy storms kept all our planes away. I kept Newkirk damp, trembling at the heat he emitted. The Colonel sat beside him, a look in his face that made my stomach clench. "You did your best, sir," I whispered.

"He can't die."

"Not going to die." Newkirk opened his eyes. "Can't leave."

The night dragged on. I left at the Colonel's orders. When I returned in the morning, I stared. Newkirk looked at me, sweat drenched and clear eyed. Colonel Hogan slept in a chair next to him. I touched Newkirk, felt damp, cool skin and shook my head. "The fever's broke," I blurted.

"I smell like a ruddy dog. I need a shower."

"You need to eat!"

"Shower, first." He reached out and touched Hogan. "Gov?"

The Colonel jerked and stared at him. "You're all right," he said.

"I am. Go get some rest, gov."

Colonel Hogan stood and smiled. Newkirk grinned and the Colonel grasped his shoulder. Then Hogan left and I helped Newkirk to the infirmary shower.

That fever started it. Newkirk recovered nicely, amazingly quick actually. Life went on. The cold winter approached and the missions actually increased. Colonel Hogan got caught in a blizzard but returned with the sheepish tale of being helped by a large black dog. Newkirk became the go to on a lot of missions because he had discovered an odd knack for short cuts and speed. Yet I also noted his temper seemed shorter at times and he watched over Carter, Hogan, LeBeau, and Kinch like a hawk. More than once, Colonel Hogan found me at his door because of an injury Newkirk had spotted that the Colonel 'forgot' to tell me about. "How did he find out?' the Colonel once demanded.

"He said you're holding your arm funny. Colonel."

"He's a little too sharp eyed lately," Colonel Hogan grumbled.

I shrugged and cleaned and wrapped the Colonel's arm. I always wondered how Newkirk explained himself but Colonel Hogan looked disgruntled more than once.

"Here I thought you were the mother hen," I remarked to LeBeau one day. Visitors had come to the Stalag and all of us were curious. Newkirk alone seemed angry, watching the visitors with a cold gaze.

"Very funny," LeBeau said. "He's just being Pierre."

"Since when is Newkirk that watchful?"

LeBeau shrugged. "He is worried. We have had close calls lately. And the visitors have him upset."

"Why?"

"Je ne suis quoi. Perhaps because the women like mon Colonel."

"Then he's in trouble because every female visitor likes Colonel Hogan."

"Oui. Come on. Schutlz is calling for inspection."

We all fell out, stomping our feet as Klink made the rounds with his guests. I smiled. The women were very attractive, two golden blondes and one striking brunette. There were three men as well. All wore SS uniforms. They eyed all of us with a measuring look. I felt-odd. As if being assessed and appraised.

What happened at the Barracks Two inspection became a variety of stories. Some said the male SS Captain slapped Newkirk. Others said Newkirk hit him. Carter said frankly that one of the women had touched Newkirk's face and simply said Newkirk was rather less than what she expected. At that, Newkirk had told her to sod off and he wasn't there for some Nazi bi... "The Colonel stopped him then He was pretty upset." Carter flushed. "I understand. That word isn't polite. Klink was going to put Newkirk in the cooler but the SS captain said Newkirk could serve them dinner. Colonel Hogan agreed." Carter swallowed. "Colonel Hogan's really mad."

Dinner must have infuriated the Colonel. I was in Barracks Two when Newkirk came in, dressed in waiter's togs. He grinned at me, headed for the tunnels. "Just tell the gov I'm down here," he said.

"Is the Colonel coming?" Carter looked around. "That was a fast dinner."

"Oh, he'll be coming in a minute or two. And he'll be ruddy angry so just stay out of his way, Andrew."

"What did you do?" Kinch asked.

"Who said I did anything? Blimey, Kinch, I'm hurt." Newkirk grinned wider. "Just tell him I'm down below."

Colonel Hogan stalked in about ten minutes later, jaw muscles jerking. LeBeau followed silently. "Where?" Colonel Hogan snarled. Carter pointed to the tunnel and Colonel Hogan slammed his hand on the bunk. The bunk flew up and he started down the ladder. "Don't disturb us," he ordered Kinch. The bunk shut after him.

I looked at LeBeau. "I was in the kitchen," he explained "I guess Newkirk insulted the guests. Mon Colonel is tres angry." He shrugged. "They are only filthy Boche."

"But we may need them," Carter protested. "And since when does Newkirk insult girls?"

"Since they insulted him. I did hear one woman call him a good servant. And not as a compliment."


	2. Chapter 2

Colonel Hogan stalked into Barracks Two and his men all silently edged aside. Kinch pointed to the tunnel. "Don't interrupt us," Hogan said, speaking through gritted teeth. He slapped the bunk much harder than he needed to and went down the ladder.

He looked for Newkirk but the radio room was empty. "Newkirk!" Hogan snapped. He stalked into the tunnel and stopped dead in his tracks.

An enormous black dog sat quietly, watching him. "Christ," Hogan whispered. Statue still, the dog seemed to fill the room and Hogan swallowed. It seemed almost more a wolf than a dog, inky black with glowing green eyes and paws as big as a man's hands. _It has to be a dog. __There are no wolves in Germany... _"Good boy," Hogan said. The dog tilted his head and his mouth opened slightly, showing gleaming, very large white teeth. "Good boy," Hogan said again, heart racing. _Those teeth are huge_...

The dog raised a massive forepaw in a playful way. "Come here," Hogan said, relieved. The dog stood and walked to him, tail wagging. "Here, fella. Good dog." He rubbed the dog's broad skull. "You are big, aren't you? Now just where is Newkirk?"

The dog placed his paw on Hogan's hand and woofed, an odd little bark that sounded like a wheeze or a laugh. Then he stepped back, tail lashing from side to side. He bent his head, grabbed a blanket off the floor, and burrowed under it. Then the blanket shuddered and Newkirk appeared. "Hello, gov. Wolf, by the way."

Hogan sat down in the chair. "What?"

"Wolf, not a dog. I'm a werewolf."

"A _what?_"

"Werewolf. A man who can become a wolf."

"That's impossible!"

Newkirk sighed and shook himself. The wolf bounded to him and leaped up, paws on his shoulders. Hogan jerked as the wolf stared at him, almost eye to eye. Teeth clicked, steamy hot breath puffing against his face, and Hogan gasped. Then the wolf hopped down, tugged the blanket over his shoulders, and Newkirk appeared. "Werewolf," Newkirk said.

"I'm going mad. What--how--?"

"That fever I had? That was my changing. I was bit and the werewolf bled onto me. I became infected. So I'm a werewolf."

"Werewolf," Hogan repeated.

"Yes."

"That's how you got so fast."

Newkirk nodded. "Four feet are faster than two."

"And how you could find things. You can scent as a wolf."

Newkirk nodded again. "And as a man. Not as good as my wolf form but a lot better than before. 'Ear and see better too."

Hogan rubbed his head. "You were the black dog who helped me." His neck reddened. "When I got lost."

Newkirk grinned. "Someone 'as to help you, gov." He chuckled. "'Sides, I know my way pretty well."

Hogan's ears burned as he remembered the black dog lying on top of him, warming his nearly frozen body. "We won't talk about it," he said. "Why didn't you tell?"

"What? 'Hey, gov, guess what? I'm a werewolf?' Yeah, you'd believe me."

"I believe you now." Hogan's mind was spinning. "there's no full moon."

Newkirk snorted. "I can change anytime, mate. The moon just makes it more fun."

"Fun?"

"Nothing like running under a full moon, gov. But look, the main thing is I'm a werewolf and so are our guests."

Hogan sighed. "Let's start from the top. Wait, I'll get the others. Unless you want to keep it secret."

"No, they need to know too."

Hogan opened the bunk as Newkirk shifted into his wolf form. Carter hopped down first. "Hey, a dog! How'd he get here?" Carter immediately tousled Newkirk's ears. "He's great!" He knelt and patted Newkirk enthustically.

"Ah, Carter..."

"Mon Dieu, it's a wolf!"

"Most likely a shepherd cross," Kinch said, jumping down. "He's huge,all right." He stroked Newkirk's back.

"Can we keep him?" Carter asked as he rubbed Newkirk's chest.

Hogan inhaled then paused. Newkirk's tail waved from side to side and a wide doggy grin split his muzzle. "How'd he get here?" LeBeau asked, patting Newkirk's head.

"Show them, Newkirk."

Newkirk padded to the blanket and burrowed beneath it. Then he appeared, blanket around him. "Hello, gents."

Hogan had to smile at the huge eyes. "That's amazing!" Carter said. "I knew you were good but that's just fantastic! Where's the dog?"

"Wolf, mate. And he's me."

"What?" Kinch asked.

"Werewolf. I can shape shift."

The men all exchanged looks. Hogan leaned against the wall with a smile. "Really, where's the dog?" Carter asked.

Newkirk sighed and shifted. Hogan watched closely, saw the muscles rippled and twist. Whatever it was, Newkirk could turn amazingly quickly. One moment he was a man, then the next he was an enormous black wolf. This time Carter turned pale and Kinch crossed himself. "_Loup garou,_" LeBeau whispered. He gently reached out and touched one of Newkirk's ears. Newkirk flicked his ear, raised a paw. Then he shifted again, wrapping the blanket around himself.

"Werewolf."

Carter flushed. "Sorry about the petting."

"Don't worry, mate. Wolves are all about touch anyway." Newkirk looked at Hogan. "Look, I'm still me. I just 'ave a few gifts." He pulled on underwear and his uniform quickly.

"How?" Kinch asked.

"Remember that fever?" Newkirk said. He poured a cup of coffee. "That was the infection starting. 'urt, too."

"How did you become a werewolf?" Hogan asked, surprised at the amount of sugar Newkirk was adding to his coffee.

"Lisel, the blond woman," Newkirk said. "We were coming back from finding those flyers. I was lagging a bit behind when I heard a crash. Just got me knife out when a huge blond wolf bit my shoulder. I knifed 'er, we wrestled a bit and she backed off. I guess her blood entered that bite. I felt fine until the fever came."

"What does her blood have to do with it?" Carter asked. "And what's with all the sugar?"

"I have a sweet tooth. And the blood is involved somehow. If I just bite someone, they don't become werewolves."

"How do you know that?" Kinch asked. "Did you bite someone?"

Newkirk looked away, sipping his coffee. "Bit a couple people," he admitted. "No one turned."

"Is that how you got so fast?" LeBeau asked. Newkirk grinned. "You cheated."

"Cheated?" Newkirk replied. "I did not cheat!"

"You 'ave four feet!"

"Not all the time," Newkirk said.

"Can you think in wolf mode?" Carter asked, face worried. All the men looked at Newkirk.

"I think I understand what you're asking," Newkirk slowly said. "Which bloody worries me. Yes, I can think as a wolf. Being a wolf just gives me a few added touches." He drank his coffee in long sips, savoring every drop.

Hogan exhaled with relief. _ Thank God for that. All I needed was a ravening bloodthirsty wolf every full moon._ As if hearing him, Newkirk turned to him, eyes glinting with an eerie radiance that definitely wasn't human. "God!" Hogan blurted.

"What?"

"Your eyes, mon ami," LeBeau said. "They are not human...."

"What?"

"They're glowing," Carter said. "Like when light hit a cat's eyes."

Shock filled Newkirk's face. "Really?"

"Really," Kinch said. "It's freaky in a way."

"So what do they want?" Carter looked at Hogan. "If they're werewolves, do they want to take Newkirk?"

The faint growl sounded incredibly loud in the crowded room. "No," Newkirk said tightly. "If they want anything, they want me dead. Lisel wasn't trying to make me a werewolf. She wanted to kill me. Believe me, they were ruddy shocked when they met me."

"Why would they hate you?" Carter asked.

"He's English, Carter," Kinch said. "I'm sure the Krauts aren't happy with an enemy soldier being a werewolf. Sorry, Newkirk, it sound impossible."

"I know."

"I wonder how many Nazi werewolves there are," Hogan said. "Newkirk, do you have any super powers?"

"Super powers?"

"Are there advantages to being a werewolf? Or having a team of them," Hogan explained.

"Pack," Carter said. "Wolves travel in packs."

Newkirk frowned. "A lot. We're stronger, faster, heal quicker. We can scent and hear extremely well. But I don't think there's a lot of werewolves, gov. I would 'ave scented some and not only that, there are downsides too."

"Bloodthirsty predators," Kinch added.

"No, the wolf isn't the vicious one." Newkirk stared at his hands. "It just wouldn't work. A team of werewolves would be 'ard to beat but not an army. That would be too crazy."

"What downsides?" Carter sipped his coffee.

"I can hear and smell like a wolf. Even in human form, I hear and scent better. Which means I hear and smell everything. Like LeBeau's cologne. it's bleedin' nasty, mate. And Kinch needs to get rid of his cold because he snores really loud when he has a cold."

"It is a wonderful cologne!"

"It smells like old feet."

Carter grinned and Hogan smiled as well. "So what do they want?" Hogan mused.

Newkirk shifted restlessly. "Most likely me. They found me."

"So?"

"So bloody Hans in there wants me dead. Lisel and he can probably talk the others into it."

"Great." Hogan swallowed his coffee. "So now what do we do?"

"We don't have any silver," Carter said. "Maybe London can get us some."

"That's just myth," Newkirk snorted. "We're ruddy affected by bullets, fire, anything that hurts a human. We just heal bloody quick."

"What else exists?" Kinch mused. "Ghosts, vampires, elves..."

Hogan glanced at Newkirk who suddenly seemed very casual. "Tell me you haven't met vampires," he said.

"I haven't met any vampires," Newkirk obediently said.

"Paulson is a minister, maybe he knows," Carter said.

"Leave 'im out of it," Newkirk said. "I'm ok with you men knowing but no one else. Not willing to wake up facing somebody with a gun loaded with silver bullets."

"He's right," Hogan said. "Just us. Now what about Hans and the others? Are they all werewolves?"

"Every one," Newkirk said. "From Anna to the muscle twins."

"Girl werewolves?" Carter asked.

"There are girl wolves," LeBeau said.

"Bitches," Newkirk said.

"Hey!" Carter said.

"He means female canines, Carter," Kinch said. "Dogs, wolves, most canine females are bitches." He looked at Newkirk. "I hope that's what he means."

"It is," Newkirk said. "Blimey, female wolves are called bitches. It's not an insult."

Hogan cleared his throat. "Can we get back on topic?"

"Sorry, Colonel," Carter said.

"Look, I can just meet with them in the woods," Newkirk said. "Me and Hans can battle it out."

"How long have you been a werewolf?" LeBeau snorted.

"Long enough to know I'm bloody good at it."

"Let's not start anything," Hogan said.

"Colonel, krauts coming!"

The yell made the men bolt for the ladder. Hogan glanced at Newkirk. "We need to talk more about this," he said.

"All ears, gov."

"I'll say," Carter cheerily said. "They're like sails!"

"Hey!"

"Up," Hogan ordered. "And later Carter!"


	3. Chapter 3

The men scrambled topside. Newkirk pulled out his ever present deck of cards and the men sat while Hogan poured a cup of coffee. Mills, the lookout, jumped on his bunk as the door opened. Hogan smiled as Klink and the lovely brunette woman stepped into the barracks, a faint smell of cinnamon entering the barracks.

"Evening, Kommandant, fraulein. Welcome to our humble abode. Coffee?"

"Good evening, Hogan. At ease, men." Klink eyed the prisoners, all studying the woman.

"Hello, miss," Carter said, standing up. He smiled. The woman smiled back at him, her rich brown hair flowing around her shoulders.

"Good evening, Sergeant." Her dark brown eyes gleamed and Carter stared at her pink lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Her English bore no accent.

"You, too," Carter stammered.

"Call me Anna," she purred.

"Yes, ma'am," Carter said eagerly.

"Down, Carter," Hogan said, noting Newkirk's jaws tightening. Carter sat down as Newkirk casually strolled to the coffeepot, brushing Anna's shoulder. The woman twisted her head and both her and Newkirk locked gazes. Hogan studied the woman as she ignored him for the moment. Svelte, beautiful, she was everything Hogan liked--and his thief glared at her as if she was Hitler himself.

"Do you have something to say, Corporal?" Klink asked.

"My what big teeth you have, fraulein."

"Newkirk," Hogan warned. Newkirk glanced at him and then looked away.

"Never mind, Colonel. I do not take offense at his lack of training. Just leash him, perhaps, when his superiors are around." Anna smiled at Hogan, eyes bright.

LeBeau grabbed Newkirk's arm, squeezed hard as he spotted a hint of that eerie glow in Newkirk's eyes. "Newkirk," he hissed. Anna smiled at LeBeau and LeBeau caught a glimpse of a similar iridescence in her eyes.

"I'll remember that," Hogan said.

"Colonel, I simply wished to see how you live. It resembles a doghouse. Fitting for some." LeBeau dug his nails into Newkirk's arm until he thought he felt flesh give. Newkirk glared at him. "May I borrow him, Kommandant Klink?"

"Who?"

"The Corporal."

"LeBeau?"

"Nein," Anna laughed. "The Englander. Perhaps he is too afraid to apologize in public. Alone, he could change his mind."

"Nothing to apologize for," Newkirk muttered. Hogan shot him a sharp glare and Newkirk bared his teeth in what some would consider a smile. "I'd be honored to speak to the lady," Newkirk said in precise words.

Anna smiled and touched Newkirk's arm. "Use my quarters," Hogan offered. Newkirk nodded and the two stepped into the quarters.

Newkirk stared at Anna. "What?"

"I wondered how you survived the change," she asked. She tilted her head. "You realize Hans will tear you apart."

"Tell Hans to worry about his own ruddy fur."

Anna laughed lightly. "It's good you have some spirit. Meet us in the woods tonight."

"Righto. Six against me. You're bloody balmy."

She shrugged. "You certainly had the attitude you could do it."

"Forget it."

"Are you afraid?"

"I'm not stupid."

"Whatever you want, Corporal. Hans and Lisel will not allow someone like you to ignore them."

"Good luck with that. Really not interested in what Hans wants."

"What a shame. How did you survive, Corporal?" She ran a hand over the rough wood of the bunk. "And why haven't you escaped? You certainly have travelled the woods enough."

"Why do you ruddy care?"

"Because it's unusual. Because common sense says you should have." She looked at him, tapping her lip thoughtfully. "I would guess your pack holds you here. Pity they are all human. Not one will be able to help you when Hans and Lisel decide to come for you. If we don't get you tonight, we will be back."

"Not worried about a couple of Kraut mangy hounds."

Anna narrowed her eyes. Newkirk leaned against the wall, smiling. "We shall see, varlet," Anna said slowly.

"Varlet?"

"Find a dictionary--if you can read." Anna grabbed the door handle. "I almost pity you. Have you ever seen two dogs tear apart a rag? Picture yourself as that rag."

"I'm not bloody worried."

"You should be."

Newkirk watched her leave, fighting back the urge to shift. He felt his teeth ache in his jaw, some actually changing into wolf form. Then he shook his head and the teeth altered to normal. "Bitch," he mumbled and rejoined his friends, the Kommandant and Anna leaving.

"You all right?" LeBeau asked.

"Yeah." Newkirk looked at Hogan and the others.

"What did she say?" Mills eagerly asked.

"Invited me to a party," Newkirk absently replied.

"Really?" Parks asked.

"How did you luck out?" Olson asked.

"She likes my smile," Newkirk said, focusing on Hogan. Hogan gestured and the command crew scrambled into his quarters.

"Mills, keep watch," Hogan ordered. In the Colonel's room, Hogan looked at Newkirk. "What does she want?"

"Just inviting me to meet the others," Newkirk said. "Let's just say the reunion should have a lot of fireworks." His teeth ached again.

"Forget it," Hogan said.

"Gov, I can handle this."

"Six werewolves against one."

"They're Krauts. 'Sides, I beat Hans and I'm home free. The rest of the pack will leave me be."

"Pack?" Kinch asked.

"Are you sure?" Hogan inquired.

"Pack--because we're part wolf," Newkirk said. "And I'm pretty sure. He's pack leader. Beat him and I'm ok. I think it works that way. I wasn't given a manual, mate."

"So what you're saying is you're playing this by ear," Hogan said, frowning.

"I think wolves are pretty territorial," Carter said. "And pretty close knit."

"We're not all wolf," Newkirk said.

"Do they want to hurt you?" LeBeau asked.

"They're not looking to welcome me to the family with open arms. Open jaws maybe. But I can 'andle a few Kraut werewolves."

"No." Hogan set down a coffee mug. "And as long as they're here, we're stuck."

"Why?" Carter asked.

"Because we can smell and track," Newkirk said.

"How good are you?" LeBeau asked.

"Good enough to find where the black marketers hide their goods."

"Really?" Kinch asked.

Newkirk nodded. "Old man Hirsch hides 'is in this small cave. 'E likes to smuggle chocolate and booze."

Hogan frowned thoughtfully. "And how fast can you run?"

"I don't know. I'm quick enough. Endurance is greater than speed."

"You have to run naked, though," Carter said.

"I have fur, mate. 'Sides, I carry clothes."

"How?" Kinch asked.

" I made a backpack," Newkirk said in an embarrassed tone. "Look, I'm just a werewolf."

"Just?" Kinch grinned.

Newkirk sighed. "Shouldn't 'ave told any of you." Hogan eyed him curiously.

"All right. Guys, let's get some rest. Newkirk, wait a minute."

Alone with Newkirk, Hogan studied his thief. "Just what else does your werewolf half have? You can run, track, bite--so what are the downsides?"

"Nothing much, mate. Look, gov, the only real downside is I get a little twitchy from time to time."

"Twitchy?"

"Restless," Newkirk sighed. "Edgy."

Hogan leaned against his bunk. _There's more but he's not giving. And I don't know the questions to ask. Damn. _He sighed mentally. Newkirk watched him intently. Hogan suddenly flashed back. _That look--how did I miss it? He's been watching for so long, ever since that damn fever. And watching everyone. _Hogan frowned. _That's something to figure out..._

"Sir?"

"What?"

"You're just staring, gov."

"Get some sleep," Hogan said. "And if you need to talk...."

"Thanks."

Newkirk left. As the men settled for the night, Newkirk laid on his bunk. He fell asleep quickly. His teammates didn't. LeBeau tossed and turned, continually seeing glowing eyes. Carter stared at the bottom of Newkirk's bunk and Kinch wondered about curses. Hogan listened to the sounds of the camp.

A distant howl made him sit up. The dogs barked and Hogan listened. In the barracks, he heard soft footfalls. Hogan got out of bed, glanced out of his door. Newkirk stood by the window, staring into the camp. As Hogan stepped into the room, Newkirk twisted his neck and Hogan swallowed hard. The coals in the stove made flickering shadows and Newkirk's eyes again glowed catlike in the dark.

Another faint howl and Newkirk jerked back to the window, leaning forward. Hogan walked over, placed a hand on Newkirk's shoulder. Under his fingers, he felt Newkirk's muscles twitching and tensing. "Let me go," Newkirk whispered.

"No. Just ignore it. Get some sleep."

"Colonel..."

"No, Newkirk." Newkirk slowly went back to his bunk and Hogan started for his quarters. "Direct order, Newkirk. Stay inside."

Newkirk looked him over and Hogan looked at him, saw flickers of eyeshine in the dark. Newkirk ducked his head, nodded.

"Whatever you say, gov."

Hogan went to his bunk and laid awake until Schultz came.


	4. Chapter 4

Hogan got out of bed, rubbing his eyes. He must have slept sometime because it must be a dream. _ There are no such things as werewolves_. He stumbled from his room, poured steaming coffee while Schultz bellowed. Newkirk glanced at him, strolled outside. Hogan glanced at LeBeau who sipped a mug of coffee as well. Shadows ringed LeBeau's eyes as well as Carter's and Kinch's. "I had an odd dream," Carter muttered as they hurried outside.

_"Moi, aussi,"_ LeBeau said. Hogan looked at Kinch and Kinch nodded.

"Werewolf?" Hogan asked.

The eyes of his men all widened. Hogan moved to his place and jerked. Behind Klink stood Hans and Erich as well as Lisel and Jenna. Hogan ignored the women, however. What caught his eye were the two enormous wolves sitting quietly by the door. One deep chocolate in color, the other pale gold. Each silently watched all the men.

"It can't be," Kinch whispered.

"Anna and Gustaf," Newkirk mumbled.

"It's not real, Newkirk!"

Newkirk glanced at Kinch, then Hogan, then LeBeau and lastly Carter. "I hate to tell you, mates, but those are what we discussed." _It's not POSSIBLE! _ Hogan felt his mind reeling. Yet, he responded automatically to Klink's cry of "Report!" while watching the guests. Hans, immaculate in his SS uniform, lazily caressed the blond wolf beside him.

"What's with the dogs?" Mills asked.

"Special guard dogs for the big shots," Schultz replied.

"They look like wolves," Parks nervously commented.

"There are no wolves in Germany," Schultz laughed. "They are big dogs."

Hans and Lisel stepped down to the ground, the two canines behind them. Hogan's eyes flicked over the animals. Each stood over three feet at the shoulder, the gold taller than the brown. Large paws patted the ground and Hogan swore he heard a faint growl from behind him. He turned and glanced at Newkirk who stood calmly, a strange half smile curving his lips.

"Colonel Hogan, are you listening?"

Hogan nodded. "Of course, Kommandant."

"Then why are you staring?"

"The SS are here, Kommandant. And they brought their dogs."

"They are not your business!"

"We are leaving today, Colonel. Duty calls." Hans walked over and Hogan sensed Newkirk moving. "But we will be back. There is always business to attend to." He smiled, a baring of teeth. "I had planned to stay longer, enjoy the hospitality but there is work to be done."

Hogan smiled. "We'll be here. Unless we can get our tunnel finished in time."

"Hogan!" Klink exclaimed. Hans looked at Hogan, his eyes thoughtful.

"I only wish, Colonel, my unit and I had met you instead of the British riff raff we so often find. You I think I could deal with."

"Doubtful. I'm pretty riff raff myself."

Lisel glared at him and Erich rolled his eyes. "No matter," Hans said. "We will finish here another time. Farewell, Kommandant. Heil Hitler!" He clicked his heels, saluted and walked off to his car, the animals behind him. The dark wolf looked at Hogan and with a chill, Hogan saw the eyes were Anna's.

After roll call, Hogan gathered his command crew. He looked at Newkirk. "You really are a werewolf."

Newkirk nodded, looking at the gate as the guests left. "You saw me shift, mate." He glanced at the others. "Ruddy 'ell. Look, I can deal with one of you in shock--I thought that you might be a little disbelieving, gov, but **all **of you?"

"It's just--you're a werewolf, Newkirk!" Carter blurted.

"I know. And you can all stop being so scared. I'm just me."

"Who says we're scared?"LeBeau asked.

"Your scent," Newkirk sighed. He rubbed his eyes.

"OK," Hogan said. "So let's move on. Can you search the woods for the others tonight, Newkirk?"

"Yes. If they're out there, I'll find them."

"Kinch, check with London tonight. I think there's a bombing run scheduled."

"Sure thing, Colonel."

An odd thought trickled through Hogan's mind. "You can smell flyers," he said suddenly.

"If they're nearby, course."

"Hey, you were the big dog who found Colonel Hogan!" Carter blurted, breaking into a grin. "In the blizzard."

Newkirk nodded, rolling a cigarette in his fingers. "I followed all of you at one time or another. Someone 'as to ruddy watch out for you." He put the cigarette away.

"Like Rin Tin Tin," Kinch chuckled. All the men laughed and Newkirk gave a quick smile.

"That's the idea."

Hogan crossed his arms, musing over ideas. "Clothes can't shift with you?" he asked.

"I bloody wish. Like I said, I either carry clothes or ruddy hide them."

"Just what have you been doing?" LeBeau asked.

"My job, Louie. A few times I ruddy ran around, tailed a few people." Newkirk shifted weight. "Can we focus on something else?"

"You're a werewolf, Peter, geesh," Carter said. "Give us some time to adjust."

Newkirk rolled his eyes.

Hogan paced a few steps. "How far can you run in a night?"

"Pushing it using running and jogging, I can travel a total of about 70 kilometers in 6, 7 hours. "

Hogan's eyebrow raised. "That's a lot of distance." _The sabotage area could be extended so much more..._

"We're built to run, mate. Not the fastest but I can jog bloody forever." Hogan thoughtfully nodded. "Don't get ideas, gov. I'm not a ruddy superhero."

Hogan merely walked to his quarters to get some sleep, deep in thought.

Late that night, Newkirk climbed out the trunk. He darted behind a tree, hastily bundled his clothes and shoved it in a hollow trunk. Quickly he shifted and then loped off. He moved in a spiral, covering large amounts of ground, always downwind, always leery of soft earth. He scrambled up a downed tree, pacing along the large trunk and sniffing carefully as well looking around. He moved around quickly, catching no scent of the German werewolves. He searched diligently, returning to his clothes after two hours. Hurriedly he pulled on clothes and climbed into the tunnel.

LeBeau met him. "Anything?" he asked, handing Newkirk a mug of cocoa.

"No. Thanks." He sipped the chocolate. "This is great. " He sniffed the air. "Did you make biscuits?"

"Cookies, oui." LeBeau handed several cookies to Newkirk. Newkirk chewed slowly, savoring each one. "Do you like them?"

"Fantastic, mate." Newkirk swallowed. "No Nazis werewolves."

_"Bon."_

Colonel Hogan came into view. "What did you find, Newkirk?"

"No Nazis or werewolves."

"How far out did you go?"

"About 13 kilometers. Trotted all round the camp."

Hogan nodded. "We need to head out. Get ready."

Ten minutes later, all five headed out. Newkirk tried to ignore the occasional curious and even somewhat frightened looks. He listened to his friends as they crept through the woods, keeping a mental picture where each one was. that he could do much better than he ever could before.

Hogan watched Newkirk briefly, amused at the twitching nostrils. Yet his Englishman moved quieter than before, always changing his position from moment to moment. _How did I miss this? I knew he had gotten faster, more skillful but just what can he do? _

After around an hour, the men paused and Hogan gestured for Newkirk to take point. Hogan also sniffed the air. The faint reek of fuel tickled Hogan's nostrils. The men spread out and soon came upon several airmen, all in RAF uniforms. "You are a long way from England," Kinch said quietly. The men whirled.

Hogan found himself shamelessly using Newkirk's abilities over the next few weeks. It still made him nervous to see the black wolf or to catch Newkirk watching him and the others but Newkirk's expanded skills were incredibly useful. Yet Newkirk didn't or couldn't explain anything more about being a werewolf. Carter seemed to adjust the quickest but he also asked the most questions and Newkirk stammered through answers as best he could. Hogan allowed Newkirk to slip out at times when missions were slow.

LeBeau heard Newkirk come down the tunnel and he looked up, smiling. Blood splattered Newkirk's face and clothes and for the first time since LeBeau had met Newkirk, he felt a chill of fear when he saw his friend. Newkirk's eyes burned and he stalked to the hamper, yanking off his clothes. LeBeau's eyes widened. Slashes and bitemarks freely covered Newkirk's torso. "Pierre?"

"Got into a fight."

"With what?"

"Another werewolf."

"What? The Boche are back?"

"No. Someone else." Newkirk pulled on underwear.

"Who?"

"Haven't the foggiest."

"You need to tell mon Colonel."

"Why? It's my bloody fight."

"What? You can not risk that! What if they smell us?"

Newkirk wheeled. "I know! I'll take care of it, all right!"

"You must tell the Colonel!"

"Damn it, LeBeau..."

LeBeau stalked to his friend, fury overcoming his fear. "You must! This is my life you are talking about as well as Carter, Kinch, and Colonel Hogan! You are not that special, Pierre!"

To his surprise, Newkirk looked away. "All right," he mumbled. "Can I clean up first?" LeBeau breathed deep.

"These are deep," he said, brushing his fingers over puncture wounds on Newkirk's arm.

"Well, he bites hard. You should see him, mate."

"They are not healing? Usually they are scabbed over by now."

"They will but not as fast as most. If a werewolf bites another, we heal as if we were human. The virus, I guess. Against each other, we're ordinary." Newkirk winced as he tugged on his pants. "Ouch."

LeBeau frowned and helped wrap the deepest wounds. Bruises freely splashed Newkirk's body yet LeBeau knew most would be gone after a day. "There. You look better."

"Thanks, little mate."

LeBeau glanced at Newkirk's face and shook his head. One deep cut ran along Newkirk's hairline. "He bit your face?"

"Tooth to tooth."

Hogan listened to Newkirk's report while inwardly cringing over the vivid bruising around Newkirk's eye. "Another werewolf? What is going on? First there was you, then Hans and his pack, now another? Are you wolves or rabbits?"

"I don' t know, gov. All I know is it's a small pack, four people. The leader is the guy I fought. Reddish brown hair, dark brown eyes. A bit taller than me, heavier."

Hogan frowned. "Did you catch his name?"

Newkirk shook his head. "Just saw the wolf form, mate."

"And he attacked you?" Newkirk shrugged, twitching slightly. Hogan groaned. "Did you attack him?"

"Well, he was on my turf," Newkirk snapped. "Don't see you too 'appy when some officer comes 'ere!"

Hogan's eyelid flicked and Newkirk smelled his annoyance. "Never mind about that," Hogan dismissed.

"Awful quick to shove that aside."

"I don't attack other officers."

"You show your fangs," Newkirk mumbled. He fell quiet as Hogan glared.

"Damn. And we have to be out tomorrow night."

"I'll get rid of him."

"You don't even know who they are."

"I can find them."

Hogan sighed, glanced at his watch. "Let's get some sleep."

The guests came late that afternoon. Sunlight turned the woman's hair to fire, a deep mahogany. "Wow," Kinch said. "Who is she?" Hogan smiled at Kinch, noted other men coming over to oogle the long legged fraulien.

"She is belle," LeBeau sighed.

"Got that right," Carter said, eying the woman.

"No uniforms," Hogan said, studying the three men with the woman as Klink greeted the woman eagerly. "Huh. The older gentleman--he's banged up. Look at the scratches on his face. And he's limping."

"Because I bit him in the leg." Newkirk's eyes flashed. "That's the ruddy pack I met last night!"

"Guess I should say hi," Hogan mused.

"You?" Newkirk blurted. "But..."

"You wait here," Hogan ordered. "All of you."


	5. Chapter 5

Hogan walked into Klink's office, winking at Hilda. "Kommandant, I have a complaint. I'm sorry, I didn't know you had guests." Hogan quickly surveyed the four. A slight young man, perhaps Carter's age, with honey blond hair and bright blue eyes, a jagged scar down his cheek; a taller, husky man in his late 20's or early 30's with dark brown hair and matching eyes, and the older man with mahogany hair and dark eyes and cuts on his face and hands. And of course, the lovely woman. All watched him curiously.

"Ah, Colonel Hogan. These people have had an accident. Tomorrow you will take your men and dig out their car and fix it. In the meantime, Fraulien Richter and her family will be my guests. Tell Corporal LeBeau I will need him."

"Of course, Kommandant," Hogan agreed, noting the woman had deep blue eyes. He bent over her hand and kissed her fingers. "Colonel Robert Hogan, US Army Air Corps at your service."

"Charmed, Colonel." The woman smiled. "I am Elsa. This is Heinrich, Stefan, and my father Gregory." She indicated the blond man, the brunette, and then the older man. "My father has been hurt and has a difficult time speaking. Kommandant, may we wash up?"

"Of course, Elsa. This way." Klink took the lady's arm and escorted her away from Hogan. "Hogan, get LeBeau."

"Yes, sir," Hogan said. Gregory studied him and Hogan mentally winced at a fresh cut down Gregory's temple.

"Join us for supper, Colonel," Stefan said, a faint accent Hogan couldn't identify. Hogan smiled.

"I'd be delighted."

Stefan gave an odd, quick smile as did Gregory. Hogan quickly scanned the men, looking for any signs that they were werewolves. _Nothing to distinguish them from any other men._

The dinner, as usual, was superb. Elsa chatted happily with Klink and Stefan and Heinrich talked with Hogan. Gregory alone said nothing, yet the look in his eyes was one of calculation and curiousity.

Elsa laid a hand on Hogan's knee under the table, sliding a note into his hand. Hogan sipped his wine, tucked the note into his coat pocket. When he left the dinner, he opened the note to read _Guest quarters, 2200 hours. Come alone._

His men gathered around him. "Easy," Hogan said. "Our guests want to meet with me tonight."

"Why?" Carter asked.

"I don't know." Hogan frowned, "I guess I'll find out tonight."

"Are you daft?" Newkirk blurted. "They're werewolves!"

"So are you," Hogan said in his reasonable voice. From Newkirk's slitting eyes, he realized his reasonable must have sounded more like insane.

"I'm part of the unit. Blimey, gov, they know you know a werewolf."

"How would they know?" Carter asked. "It's not as if the Colonel is a werewolf."

Newkirk turned his glare on Carter. "We can scent, mate."

"But you scent better as a wolf," Kinch said.

"Yes, i do but even as a man, I can scent. I'm sure they can, too. And the Colonel 'as my scent on him, just like they 'ave each other's scent."

"The Colonel smells like you?" Carter blurted. Newkirk sighed.

"You all 'ave my scent. Everything you touch or are near picks up odors. Do you understand?"

"Not really," Carter mumbled.

"Later," Hogan said, both curious and oddly uncomfortable that he carried Newkirk's scent. _I don't want to know..._."We have work tonight. Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk, you have to wire that bridge. Kinch, radio London. I'll talk to our guests."

"Colonel, that's not wise," Newkirk warned. "I should stay."

"You go. All three of you. And that's an order."

Late that night, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau hurriedly wired the explosives to the bridge. "Timers set?" Newkirk asked.

"Set for 0700. That's the last one, LeBeau."

'Good." LeBeau twisted a wire into place. "Let's get back."

"We made good time," Carter said softly.

They hurried back to camp, Carter and LeBeau relying on Newkirk's hearing more than they liked. Yet they safely made their way into the tunnel and Newkirk darted off. "What's that about?" Carter asked. LeBeau shrugged.

While the men were out...

At 2200 hours, Hogan knocked on a window and was let in. "Good evening, Colonel," a husky voice said. "Welcome."

Gregory sat in a chair. "Hi," Hogan said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," the man said, sipping schnapps. He had a heavy accent.

"You're Russian," Hogan said in astonishment. "No wonder Elsa said you couldn't speak."

"Grigori Kozlov ," Grigori said. "I am honored to meet you, Colonel."

"I thought Elsa might be here."

"She is nearby. Sit, Colonel. Have a drink."

Hogan sat. "Why are you here? What is a Russian doing here?"

Grigori handed him some schnapps. "Wind!"

A honey blond wolf trotted into the room, looking at Hogan with bright blue eyes. "This is Wind. You know him as Heinrich," Grigori said.

Hogan studied the wolf. "All right," he said slowly. "Why are you here?"

"You sent Newkirk away?"

"He has something to do." Hogan leaned back in his chair. "Tell me why you wished to see me."

"I will speak freely, Colonel. Wind, thank you. Go see to Elsa, please." The wolf left the room. "Colonel, your man is a werewolf." Hogan shoved down a jolt of terror. "My pack and I caught his scent when passing this way." Hogan sipped his schnapps and said nothing. Grigori eyed him. "I am guessing he was turned by Hans and his pack. An accident."

"Perhaps," Hogan said.

"Hans would never allow a non German in his pack. He must have come for your man."

"Why is it your business?" Hogan stared into Grigori's dark eyes. The Russian smiled wider.

"Colonel, I was thinking of perhaps adopting your man into my pack. A werewolf, like a wolf and a man, is social. I did not know he had already had one." Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Your men are his pack, that I know now. You are aware Hans and his coterie will kill him?"

Hogan smiled sharply. "He'll try."

Grigori sighed. "Colonel Hogan, you do not understand. Did Hans not call Newkirk out?"

"Call out?"

"Challenge him, demand he meet privately with your Corporal."

"He wanted to meet with him, yes." Deciding to trust this man and get questions answered, Hogan leaned forward. "I didn't allow Newkirk to meet with him. Would he have killed him?"

Grigori cursed in Russian. "I feared that." His face sagged. "Colonel, pack leaders often battle. It does not have to be to the death but Hans will make it so. And I am sure his pack will help him."

"So we help."

Grigori hesitated. "Colonel," he slowly said. "You are human. Newkirk is the werewolf. He would stand alone against Hans and his pack."

"I don't let my men face a slaughter," Hogan said.

"And that is what Hans will do. I have seen his work. Heinrich managed to survive a battle with Hans's pack. All of the rest of his family were torn apart. We saved him and adopted him into our family. Hans will never let your man survive."

"And you would help him?" Hogan's mind raced.

"If he was part of my family, of course. But from what I now know, Newkirk would never join with me. I did not know that when I caught his scent. We only thought to help. Now I warn you."

"What will happen?" Hogan asked.

Grigori shrugged. "If Hans does what he has done before, he will return here sometime and make sure Newkirk dies under his teeth. Hans likes to slaughter. He is nature born and..."

"He's what?"

Grigori chuckled. "Forgive me, Colonel. I forget you are not one of us. Nature born means simply that Hans was a werewolf from birth. All his pack are. Newkirk would be a made werewolf. As am I and one other of my pack. The rest are nature born."

"I'm not losing Newkirk. Not to some deranged SS Major." Hogan paused. "You can be born a werewolf?"

Grigori nodded. "Of course. What makes us is a virus, something in the blood and body. Once we become werewolves, we are always werewolves. And if two werewolves have a child, the child is naturally a werewolf."

"You follow Hans?"

"We left Russia several years ago," Grigori sighed. "After we saved Heinrich, I became interested in Hans and his pack. They are a top SS unit, used to root out infiltrators. I don not follow him but he does make me curious. So when I run across his trail, I investigate."

Hogan's stomach tightened. "A unit of Nazi werewolves. Literally."

"Da, but the Nazis do not know what they are. Not even Hans is that stupid. We tell few people what we are. Say the word werewolf and people become peasant mobs, armed with torches and guns. Don't get me wrong, I believe Hans and his group is very happy with the Nazi reign-they can indulge their bloodthirst all under official sanction. But they do not tell the Nazis who they are."

"How many werewolves are there? And why are you trusting me?"

"We are not common but we are not absolutely rare. As for the why, you are part of Newkirk's pack. You already know about werewolves."

"Part of his pack," Hogan mused.

"You are his friend, his comrade. You are pack to him."

"Newkirk has a lot of friends," Hogan said.

Grigori shook his head. "Not friend, Colonel. Pack. Closer than blood. Pack means the ones we will fight and die for, the ones we share ourselves with."

Hogan nodded. "I get it."

The older man sighed. "I wish you good luck with Hans. I can see no way out of this mess for you."

"I take care of my men," Hogan said. "I gather there are customs and rules?"

"Of course. It varies pack to pack but we have some rules. The most important is to always hide what we are."

"Newkirk doesn't know all this," Hogan mused.

"The problems of being a lone wolf," Grigori sighed. He rubbed his eyes. "I will tell you what I can, help as I can."

"That'd be appreciated," Hogan said gratefully. The two men began talking, Grigori trying to explain the dual life of a werewolf and some of the customs and rules. As they talked about Hans again, Grigori shook his head.

"I think you should be prepared. I do not think your man will survive."

"I think you're wrong."

"I think you're in the ruddy wrong place."

Hogan whirled as Newkirk paced into the room, eyes shining. Grigori stood up swiftly. "Newkirk, what are you doing here?" Hogan demanded. _I didn't hear a thing..._

"Finished the job, gov." Newkirk's gaze never left Grigori's and Hogan swore his teeth were elongating. Grigori's breathing increased as Newkirk stared at him.

"Newkirk, go check on the others." Newkirk finally looked at his Colonel and stubbornly stood still. _ "Now, Newkirk!"_

Newkirk left, glaring at Grigori. Grigori looked at Colonel Hogan. "I have invaded his territory, Colonel. You are lucky he listened."

"I am his commanding officer," Hogan dryly reminded.

"You command the man. The wolf is not yours." Hogan inwardly stiffened. He had no illusions about his men-they had their faults-but they were his, ready to follow him into Hell. Grigori studied him. "He is a werewolf, Colonel. It is, always, a battle of instinct and intellect." He shook his head. "He has taken easily to the werewolf path. It is a shame that Hans will tear him apart."

"He won't."

Grigori nodded. "I wish you well."

Newkirk shoved past LeBeau, jaw muscles clenching, ignoring LeBeau's questioning "Newkirk?" He headed into the tunnel.

"For Pete's sake, what is going on?" Carter demanded.

"He is going to run," LeBeau said in exasperation. "When he gets irritated, he runs in the woods."

"That's stupid! The Krauts are everywhere!"

"He runs as a wolf."

"And if some crazy Kraut decides to use him for target practice?" Carter demanded.

"Oui, I know. But he is restless."


	6. Chapter 6

Newkirk barreled through the woods, hurtling logs and diving through brush. He couldn't explain what this was to him, how the ground 'spoke' through every paw, how the world smelled of spring flowers and growing grass. He couldn't tell his friends how the moon made his heart race faster when it was full nor how scents almost seemed to have form when he was a wolf. He didn't have the words to explain that, now, he literally felt each season, that rain had a scent and flavor and storms made fur raise. _Have to admit, being a werewolf has some advantages!_

He ignored the minor pull of cuts and bruises. When he splashed into the creek, he finally paused and tilted his head. For long moments he waited, ears flicking back and forth. A shadow moved in the distance and he slipped forward, placing each paw carefully as he moved.

Stefan, in his wolf form, lifted his head just as a black wolf barreled into him. The two rolled together, teeth slashing and claws raking. Newkirk channeled his previous rage into biting, sinking his fangs deep into the larger wolf. The brown wolf thrashed and tossed Newkirk off like a bucking horse. With a snarl, he raced for Newkirk and Newkirk darted aside. Teeth clicked and growls echoed in the cool air. Stefan bit deep into Newkirk's side and Newkirk yelped, slewing his head around to tear a furrow down Stefan's exposed shoulder. They sprang apart, circled each other. Newkirk feinted but Stefan didn't fall for it and Newkirk barely avoided a sharp bite to his rump. Each growled, noises that once chilled primitive humanity to the bone.

Yet humanity was now the threat. Stefan's ears swiveled and Newkirk jerked at the sound of boots crunching. Newkirk bolted off, Stefan behind him. Newkirk twisted, ran parallel to the camp fence until he dove through the wire. Unseen, he padded behind the barracks until he nosed open Hogan's shutters and hopped through the window. Newkirk grabbed a robe and shifted. Muscles ached and he felt blood running down his side. Yet he tingled with life and adrenaline. _ If I had my tail, it'd be wagging!_

LeBeau's eyes widened as he emerged from Hogan's quarters. "Newkirk?"

"Fine, mate." Newkirk hurried down into the tunnel, Carter and LeBeau following.

"I'll get Wilson," Carter said as Newkirk dropped the robe.

"Never mind," Newkirk said, pulling on underwear and pants.

"Who bit you now?" LeBeau asked.

"One of the visitors," Newkirk said. "Hey, Kinch."

"You're tackling the guests? God, Newkirk, you look like hell."

"Just need a quick bandage." Newkirk slapped a piece of gauze on his side.

"Hold still," Carter ordered, taping the gauze. "LeBeau, don't watch."

"It is my blood that bothers me, not others," LeBeau scoffed although his face was slightly green. Newkirk snorted and pulled on a shirt as Carter finished.

"You better hope the Colonel doesn't find out," Kinch said.

"He told me to check on the others," Newkirk said.

"I'm sure that didn't mean fighting them," Kinch said, scowling.

Newkirk grinned. "It's fine, mate. Thanks, Carter." He stretched and poured a cup of coffee. He added sugar and LeBeau rolled his eyes.

"We will need more sugar soon."

Newkirk sipped his coffee and then turned. "Hello, Colonel."

Hogan walked up, smelling faintly of perfume. Newkirk also caught the scent of Elsa and refrained from rolling his eyes. _Least he didn't shag her. That smell would make me vomit_. _Snogging is bad enough. Thought you had better taste, gov._ "What's going on?" Hogan asked. "Newkirk, you have blood on your face."

"It happens."

Hogan nodded, pouring coffee. "Bridge set to blow?"

"You bet!" Carter's eyes lit up.

Hogan glanced at Newkirk. "Tell me, did you just get into another fight?" he asked casually. Newkirk immediately widened his eyes.

"I was checking on the others, gov, like you said, then checked outside the wire. Not my fault I ran into someone else."

"Damn it, Newkirk, they're here to help!"

"How's that?"

"The werewolf leader is Grigori. He came because of you, to help you. He thought you might be lonely."

"Lonely? I ruddy live with over 500 men."

"You're the only werewolf," Hogan said. He sipped his coffee.

"They faked the car wreck?" LeBeau asked.

"No, their car is actually stuck. But Grigori still came to help Newkirk."

"Russian?" Kinch asked. Hogan nodded.

"Elsa is his daughter, Stefan and Heinrich are pack members."

"Pack?" LeBeau repeated. "He uses animal terms?"

"They accept they have an animal side." Hogan took a large gulp of coffee. "I don't understand it completely but he explained some."

"Like what?" Carter leaned forward eagerly.

"That werewolves don't tell other people what they are. Werewolves are created by a virus. And that Hans and his pack are a group of werewolf spies. A spy ring."

"You're kidding," Kinch groaned.

"That's bad," Carter said glumly.

"Considering what they can do, it's bad." Hogan stared at his coffee.

"You think they can do a lot of harm?" LeBeau asked. "Why? I understand they can track and bite..."

"They can scent," Newkirk said. "If someone plays with explosives, they could smell it. If one of us is questioned, they can tell when we lie. They hear well and if at an explosion sight, they could track back to camp. It's a nightmare." He set down his empty mug.

"They can?" LeBeau said.

"If the track is fresh, yes."

"Colonel, what do we do?" Carter asked.

"And how?" Kinch chimed in.

"Wait a minute, easy," Hogan ordered. He looked at Newkirk. "What did you just say?"

"They can track?" Newkirk said.

"No, you said 'they can tell when we lie.'"

"Yes," Newkirk slowly said.

"Are you saying you can tell when somebody lies?"

Newkirk drew back as everyone stared at him. "It's not surefire, gov, but yes. It's hard to explain but scents change when they lie and they act different."

"I don't believe it," Carter said.

"It's-like a picture turning blue," Newkirk said, obviously struggling. "Look, um, OK, like when Olson talks about that bird Holly. He hasn't been with her and even though he says he has, his scent alters, he sweats a bit, he twitches. He's spinning a tale. I can tell that."

"But it's not foolproof?" Kinch asked.

"No. It's hard to explain. It's smell and how they look and move..." Newkirk rubbed his temple. "It just is."

"You know, for being a werewolf, you can't explain much," Carter grumbled.

"I can't put it into words." Newkirk shrugged. "It's like tasting colors, drinking the wind."

Hogan paced, arms crossed. "It can help us as well," he said. "Newkirk, we meet with the Underground next week. You and me."

Newkirk nodded. "And tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow you behave yourself." Hogan's voice held steel.

Newkirk dropped his eyes and nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

The air smelled of dew and wet grass as the prisoners gathered by the battered truck. Newkirk and Grigori exchanged sharp glances but Carter elbowed Newkirk and they turned to the truck. Elsa came over to Hogan, smartly dressed in trousers and a linen shirt. "Good morning, Colonel Hogan."

"Good morning, Fraulien. Is Stefen all right?" He breathed in, smelling soap and her shampoo.

Elsa nodded, looking over at her packmate. "Father is upset but Stefan said he is well." She looked at the assorted prisoners. "What are your names?"

"I am Corporal Louis LeBeau, mademoiselle." LeBeau kissed Elsa's hand. He smiled adoringly at her. Hogan mentally rolled his eyes.

"Hello, monsieur. A pleasure." Elsa clasped Lebeau's hand tightly.

"Easy," Hogan warned as LeBeau's eyes lit. "This is Sergeant Carter."

"You can call me Andrew, miss," Carter stammered. He shook her hand.

"You can call me Elsa, Andrew."

"Yes, miss." Carter's eyes glowed.

"And Sergeant Kinchloe."

"Hello, miss." Kinch shook her hand and Elsa's smile widened.

"Hello, Mr. Kinchloe."

Kinch's eyes widened. "Just Kinch, miss." Hogan hid a smirk as the normally unflappable Kinch seemed nervous.

"Then you may call me Elsa." Her blue eyes brightened and her cheeks pinked.

"And Corporal Newkirk."

A chill entered the air. "Fraulien." Newkirk bowed his head.

"Corporal." Elsa stiffened slightly. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome." the two werewolves studied each other. Then Newkirk stepped aside and went to the truck.

"Hogan, what are you doing?" Klink hurried over. "This truck needs to be moved!"

"Yes, Kommandant. Come on, men."

As the prisoners began pushing the truck, Elsa looked at Hogan. "My father wished me to give you this," she murmured, slipping him a note. "Our address and a phone number. Ask for Heinrich. Have you any questions?"

"Tons. But they'll wait."

"We will try to send word if we run across Hans."

"Thanks." Hogan smiled. He glanced at Stefan, Grigori, and Heinrich. "Can you really tell if someone is lying?" Grigori watched everything with the same intensity Hogan had noticed in Newkirk.

Elsa's eyebrows lifted. "It is not that simple, Colonel. But, yes, many times. It is a body language, scent change combination."

"Huh. Useful."

She flashed a smile. "Very."

A groan of metal and the truck inched out of the ditch. Hogan joined his men as Klink moved next to Elsa. Hogan threw his weight against the truck and slowly, painfully, the truck moved. When the truck stood free and clear, Heinrich slipped into the driver's seat and inserted the key. The truck sputtered to life and Elsa threw her arms around Klink. "_Danke_, Wilhelm! You have saved us!"

Klink blushed and hugged her in return. "You are most welcome, Elsa!"

Elsa kissed his cheek and slipped from his embrace. "Call me," she cheerily said, hopping into thee truck. "Come, Father, Stefan. We must hurry! Thank you men!" Grigori and Stefan joined her in the truck. "Farewell Wilhelm!" She blew Klink a kiss then waved to Hogan and his men. "Good bye, Colonel! Good bye Kinch!"

The truck rolled off and Klink smiled smugly at Hogan. "What a lovely woman!"

"And she's eating out of your hand, Casanova!"

"Naturally," Klink sniffed. "Come. We must get to camp."

Hogan jumped in the back of the truck with his men. "She's really neat," Carter said.

"Oui," LeBeau said. He nudged Newkirk. "She didn't like you."

"Feeling's mutual."

"Heck, Newkirk, she's gorgeous!" Carter said.

"So? She's also a werewolf. You don't know anything about her." Newkirk's lip curled.

"Neither do you," Hogan said.

"I know she's in the wrong place," Newkirk shot back. In his words Hogan heard _She invaded MY turf! _Grigori's words suddenly hit him. _I invaded his territory, Colonel. _Newkirk then looked at Kinch. "She likes you," he said, a smile curving his lips.

"What?" Kinch jerked.

"She likes you," Newkirk repeated.

Kinch's cheeks darkened. The men all exchanged grins. "I didn't think you ever blushed," Carter exclaimed.

"Oui," LeBeau said. He poked Kinch. "Perhaps she will visit you."

"Stop it. She's just being friendly," Kinch muttered. He looked at Newkirk. "Right?"

"She 'as the hots for you." Hogan jerked, a sharp bolt of jealousy pricking him, and Newkirk turned. "She likes you, too, gov but Kinch made 'er scent spike."

"You're a lucky man, Kinch."

Kinch's flush deepened.

Later that week, Newkirk stretched, glancing worriedly at the scudding clouds above him. Tonight he had scout detail and he needed to be fast. He quickly stripped, bundled his clothes, shoved them in a log, and shifted.

_"It's impossible to describe, Colonel. it starts as a terrific stretch then a shake. For a 'eartbeat, all my muscles and bones turn to water and then the wolf appears."_

_ "Does it hurt?"_

_ "A stretchy kind of pain."_

Hogan watched Newkirk shake himself and the wolf appear. The wolf nosed a loop over his head. Raising his head, the wolf sniffed the breeze and then suddenly turned. Without hesitating he came to Hogan's thicket and gave an odd bow, tail waving. Hogan sighed and stepped out. "Smelled me?" The wolf nodded, tongue lolling. Hogan felt the wind against his cheek. "Wind change," he said. The wolf nodded again, looked over his shoulder. His ears flicked. "Go on and be careful," Hogan said. The wolf head butted his thigh then ran off, tail high. Hogan blinked. _He's incredibly fast. And I keep forgetting how big he is. What is he, three feet at the shoulder? Seven feet long if you count that tail?_ The wind changed again and he headed into the camp.

Rain lashed Newkirk's fur. He ran through the woods, leaping forward at every lightning bolt. Ozone filled the air and his ears flattened. Newkirk had never minded storms but this one made his fur crackle. He stretched out as much as he could, eyes rolling as a tree branch crashed to the earth. He veered as another limb thudded beside him. Hurtling towards the tree trunk, he shifted, grabbed his clothes, and scrambled down the ladder. He leaped down, landing hard.

He dressed quickly, frowning at the mud on his hands. He hated this part of being a werewolf-paws became grimy hands and feet. He washed up, drying his hair hastily. "How was it?" Carter asked as he came in.

"Done. Ruddy storm is wild." Newkirk pulled out a cigarette, rolled it between his fingers. "Where are the others?"

"In the radio room. You can really run."

"You'll be amazed at what four feet can accomplish." Newkirk stretched and put his cigarette away.

In the radio room, all the men looked expectantly at Newkirk. He handed a camera and roll of film to Hogan. "Got the pictures," he said.

"How's security?"

"Tight as 'ell. I think it's a done deal, gov. Everyone in is ID checked and those guards aren't bloody friendly." Newkirk ran his fingers through his wet hair.

"Damn. We need to find out what's going on in there."

"Can't the Underground help?" Carter asked. "They got to have someone there closer than us."

"Maybe," Hogan muttered. "Come on, guys, let's hit the sack. Good job, Newkirk."

"Thanks." Newkirk looked at LeBeau. "Anything to eat, mate?"

"Hungry again?" LeBeau asked incredulously. "You had supper."

"You run like I did and you'd be hungry, too," Newkirk said.

"Fine. I will get you something," LeBeau muttered. The two Europeans walked off.

"He's eating a heck of a lot lately," Carter said. Worry filled his voice.

"I'll say," Kinch agreed.

"I noticed it too,' Hogan said. "Yet, he's getting thinner."

"Running," Carter said. "He is running farther than the rest of us."

Maybe," Hogan said. "Come on, men. Let's get some sleep."


	8. Chapter 8

Carter snuck a glance at Newkirk while they showered. The Englishman stood under the tepid water, scrubbing his hair. Carter quickly saw that Hogan was right-Newkirk was thinner. Yet he seemed muscular rather than skin and bones. While all the command crew were in good shape, Newkirk had obtained a top distance runner's build. As they dressed, Carter nudged Newkirk. "How much do you run?" he whispered.

Newkirk shrugged. "A lot," he murmured. When the men gathered outside the barracks, Newkirk stiffened as Wilson came into view. Hogan clasped Newkirk's shoulder.

"Just a quick check up," Hogan said. "Relax, Newkirk."

Newkirk shot him a dirty look but walked off with Wilson. Carter lit a cigarette and Kinch looked at Hogan. "You think he's ill?" he asked.

"He panicked in delousing," Hogan said slowly.

"He did not panic," LeBeau disputed. "He simply hated the smell."

"He's not alone in that," Kinch muttered.

"Least it'll take care of any fleas," Carter said.

"Carter!" Hogan gave the young man a _look_.

"Well, I've always been told any furry animal could get fleas," Carter defended as LeBeau laughed.

"He's not a dog," Kinch said.

"I just meant since he runs in the woods, he could catch fleas," Carter said.

Hogan sighed. "I'll be taking Newkirk with me to the Underground meeting."

"Why?" Kinch asked.

"I'm hoping he can help us find our leak. I trust Tiger but we've got new people and if he can actually tell if someone is lying, that can be useful."

"That's a heck of a responsibility," Kinch said. "Colonel, what if he's wrong?"

"At ease," Hogan said at the anxious looks in the men's eyes. "He's not going to be the deciding factor. He's just going to help."

"Why Wilson?" LeBeau said.

"Newkirk's thin," Hogan said. "I just wanted to him checked."

"He eats like a wolf," LeBeau said. "He is always hungry."

"And that's why I want him checked," Hogan said.

"Maybe we could call Elsa," LeBeau suggested.

"Yeah," Carter agreed.

"Cool it," Hogan said at the excited looks in all his mens' eyes. He sighed as Klink headed his way. "Wonder what he wants."

"Hogan! Come with me!" Klink called.

The men all watched their CO walk off with the Kommandant. Newkirk joined them a little while later. "I'm fine," he said, forestalling any questions.

A grumpy Hogan joined them. "The Kommandant wants us to clean all the barracks. And he has no idea about that facility." He looked at Newkirk. "Are you OK?"

"Fine, gov." Newkirk tapped a cigarette into his palm. "You all worry too much." He rolled it around his fingers.

"Are you going to smoke that or not?" Kinch asked after a few minutes. Newkirk shrugged.

"No, not in the mood." Newkirk shoved the cigarette back into the pack.

"Let's start cleaning."

Wilson pulled Hogan aside as the men hoed the flower beds. "How is he?" Hogan asked.

"Odd. His heart rate worries me-it's high, higher than it should be. And he's leaner than he should be. He seems to be in good shape but I don't understand the heart rate."

"Damn," Hogan muttered. "Bad?"

"It shouldn't be so high. I'll keep an eye on it if you help me corral him from time to time."

"Not a problem." Hogan glanced at Newkirk, not surprised to see Newkirk immediately look at him. "Thanks, Wilson."

That afternoon, the men gathered around the newly developed photos that Newkirk had taken and a map. Newkirk gnawed a chocolate bar as he pointed to a photo of the facility. "Everyone's papers are checked at the gates. I didn't see much going in except people. And chemicals."

"Like what?" Carter asked.

"Chemicals. I don't know."

"You couldn't scent them."

"No. And even if I could smell them, I couldn't ID them."

"We need to get the Underground there, find out what's going on."

"What about Burkhalter?" Kinch asked. "He might know."

Hogan nodded. "That's an idea. Klink said he's coming tomorrow..."

"Maybe he'll bring our mail," Carter blurted.

"Right, because he's the Pony Express," Kinch snorted, smacking Carter lightly.

"Be a bloody large pony, mate," Newkirk said.

"Oui," LeBeau said. "A Percheron!"

"What's a Percheron?" Kinch asked.

"French draft horse," Hogan said.

"How did you know?" LeBeau asked.

"I had a few horse crazy girlfriends."

That night, Tiger grinned at Hogan. "Welcome, Papa Bear."

"Hiya, Tiger. Who's here?"

"Hansel, Rose Red, and Sleeping Beauty. We are just waiting for Mockingbird."

"Good." Hogan gestured to Newkirk. Newkirk kissed Tiger's hand.

"Hello, luv."

"Hello, Baby Bear," Tiger said. Newkirk rolled his eyes. They were meeting in a barn and it smelled of animals and hay. A cat stared at them from the top of a stack of hay. Hogan glanced quickly at the assorted Underground members. Newkirk reached up to the cat who suspiciously eyed him but finally let him brush a finger over her cheek.

Newkirk allowed Hogan to talk. "We need to find out what is at this facility," Hogan said. "What do we know?"

"We know this," Rose Red said, his dark eyes worried. "It is a scientific testing laboratory."

"For what?" Hogan felt his chest tighten.

"No one knows."

"Mockingbird tried," Hansel said. He gestured as Tiger let in a tall, thin man. "Mockingbird? What can you tell us about the Frankfort lab?"

"Impenetrable." Mockingbird glanced at Hogan. "Papa Bear? I have heard you do miracles but Frankfort lab? Not even those who live nearby have any idea what's going on. Or they are too terrified to say."

"Sleeping Beauty has been there," Hansel said.

Sleeping Beauty, an older woman who clenched a cane tightly in her weathered hands, shrugged. "I agree with Mockingbird," she said. "It is too dangerous. They check everyone's ID."

"Damn," Hogan muttered.

Newkirk's nostrils twitched as the acrid scent of fear filled his nose. Hogan continued to ask questions and Newkirk closed his eyes. Swiftly he identified the breathing rate to each person. Hansel and Sleeping Beauty both seemed more nervous than any of the others. Briefly Newkirk wished he could switch to wolf form so he breathe in everyone's scent. The wolf could scent far better.

At the end of the meeting, Tiger left with Hogan and Newkirk. Near the camp, Hogan ordered Newkirk to go to camp ahead of him. Newkirk snorted but walked ahead. Before he reached the tunnel, he turned and doubled back. Patiently he scanned the area, making sure Hogan returned safely. When he spotted Hogan slipping back into camp, he followed suit.

Hogan gave him a look. "Newkirk, what are you doing?"

Newkirk shrugged. "Just making sure, gov."

"What did you find out?" Carter asked, carrying a pot of coffee. Hogan poured a cup, grinning as Carter handed Newkirk a huge sandwich.

"Well, Newkirk?"

"Hansel and Sleeping Beauty are bothered." Newkirk bit deep into the sandwich. "Not sure why."

Hogan nodded. LeBeau and Kinch walked in. "We need to get in," Hogan said. LeBeau handed a mug of tea to Newkirk.

"How?" Kinch asked.

"No idea. Everyone is checked going in."

"Except..." Carter stopped suddenly.

"What?" Hogan asked.

"Nothing. You'll think it's crazy."

"What else is new?" Kinch asked.

"What is it, Carter?" LeBeau poured himself a cup of coffee. Carter pulled at his hands for a moment then exhaled.

"Well, they're checking everyone going in," he said, not looking at Newkirk. "But I bet they're not checking their search dogs."

Newkirk choked.


	9. Chapter 9

Newkirk stood restlessly next to Carter, rubbing his neck. "I must 'ave been bloody balmy to agree to this," he muttered.

"Sorry," Carter whispered, hunching his shoulders. This had been his idea, no matter what Hogan had said. Newkirk glanced at him, frown quirking into a smile.

"Never mind, mate." He looked over as Hogan walked over to them.

"You two ready?" Hogan asked quietly.

Carter nodded. Newkirk sighed and nodded. He tossed off the robe he was wearing and shifted. The black wolf looked at Hogan and Carter. Hogan studied the wolf critically. A thick, wide leather collar and long leash helped 'dogize' Newkirk quite a bit but Hogan privately admitted Newkirk had been right when he'd protested he didn't look dog like. Newkirk stood large and heavy, far taller than most German Shepherds or Belgian Shepherds which Newkirk resembled the most. Carter picked up the leash's end. "Carter, keep to the story if anyone asks. He's from a line of special German dogs the Krauts have been breeding. Newkirk, get what you need and get out." Newkirk woofed, an odd bark. "Let Carter talk," Hogan sighed. "Get ready to move out." _Thank you, Newkirk, for actually agreeing to this. Although that temper tantrum was ugly to say the least..._

"Be careful," Carter said. Hogan nodded.

"We'll be fine. Remember where the Underground parked the car. And German, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

Hogan left and Carter nervously licked his lips. Kinch, LeBeau, and Hogan would toss a few grenades at the facility. Newkirk and Carter would (hopefully) slip inside in the chaos. Carter breathed deep, surprised when a wet nose brushed his hand. He looked down and grinned as Newkirk waved his tail. "You OK?" Carter breathed. The wolf gave one nod and then leaned on Carter's leg. Carter dug his fingers in the thick ruff and waited.

When the explosions came, Carter and Newkirk headed for the facility entrance, quickly mingling with other dog handlers. Newkirk shoved past the guards along with the other handlers, pulling Carter inside. This was the trickiest part, pushing their way inside. Alarms blared and Newkirk yanked hard, digging into the floor. "What is that?" a handler yelled at Carter.

*"Special line of German breeding," Carter said, switching to German. "This one is named for the Fuhrer himself." Carter ignored the jerk on the leash. "Adolph, onward!"

Newkirk leaped forward. Another dog leaped with him, yelping excitedly. Suddenly all the dogs scrabbled down the hall, barking and hauling their handlers. Newkirk sniffed the air, ignoring the white clad people streaming past them. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air as well as the scents of fearful and excited people and Newkirk twisted down a side hall. Carter could almost taste the chemicals and Newkirk flicked his ears. He pushed against a door. Carter glanced over his shoulder and opened it.

The room reeked of ammonia and sulfur and Newkirk gave a low whine. Carter nodded. "I think the Colonel did more than he thought," Carter whispered, still using German. Newkirk twitched and pawed his nose. "Let's get to work," Carter said.

Newkirk trotted around the lab while Carter looked through files. Carter snapped pictures then looked around. Newkirk stood on his hind legs, looking through a window. Carter walked over. The window overlooked a larger laboratory. A few people scurried around and Newkirk whuffed. "Fire?" Carter asked softly. Newkirk nodded. "What happened? Our grenades shouldn't have done this..."

Newkirk hopped down. Carter looked around for the door. It opened soundlessly and Carter walked in. Newkirk followed after him, pressing against his leg. Carter breathed with relief. The heavy stink of chemical didn't linger here. Yet Newkirk shoved against Carter, a low growl echoing through his body. Carter felt the rumble and looked down. Newkirk's ears laid flat against his skull and fur rose along his spine.

"Achtung! Fire!" Carter pointed to the door. "You must leave!" He hurried to where a harried looking older man shoved files into a case. "Sir, you must go!"

"I am hurrying, young man! Had you done your job right..." He stopped at Newkirk's growl. "Control your dog."

Carter awkwardly gave a light tug on the leash. Newkirk looked at him but stopped growling. Carter grabbed for the case. "I can carry this, sir."

"Nein! Bring Dr. Neumann's case!"

Carter turned his head and saw a woman carrying two cases. "Here," the woman said. "Carry this."

Carter followed the scientists, hearing Newkirk's paws click beside him. Outside the facility, guards hurried and Newkirk shoved against Carter's thigh as a tall Major headed towards the scientists. Carter swallowed hard.

"Dr. Bauer, Dr. Neumann. Are you well?"

"We are fine! How bad is the fire?"

"The gas lines are ruptured. We are working on it. You, take your dog and report to Captain Wehner."

"Jawohl!"

Carter spun on his heel and hurried away, clenching the case. Behind a truck, he shoved files into his coat. Newkirk had specialized several coats, making secret pockets. When Carter was done, he tossed the case under the truck and looked at Newkirk. "Ready?" he whispered. Newkirk waved his tail.

As they walked off, a harried Captain grabbed Carter's arm. "This way! Now, Lieutenant!" Newkirk growled and the Captain looked at him. "Where did he come from?"

"He is a special line of dogs bred for tracking," Carter said. "This is Adolph."

The Captain reached for Newkirk's leash and the growl raised. "You must forgive him," Carter laughed. "I have worked with him for nearly a year and he doesn't like _me_ much of the time. But he does an excellent job." He stroked Newkirk's head and the growl stopped.

They were loaded into a truck along with three other dogs and handlers. Newkirk sat beside Carter. Carter tried to breathe slowly, unaware he was continually stroking Newkirk's ears and neck. The truck jolted down the road, moving from the facility. They travelled for over an hour. When they stopped, the heavy stench of jet fuel hung in the air. "Raus! Find the bomber crew!"

Newkirk jumped forward. Carter jogged after him. When Newkirk veered behind a screen of trees, Carter looked over his shoulder, The broken B-17 laid among shattered trees. Newkirk tugged hard. "We have to find the crew before the others do,"Carter whispered, still using German. Newkirk stared at him, eyes and nostrils wide. He shook his head, yanking on his leash. "We can't leave them to the Krauts," Carter hissed. Newkirk snapped his teeth together. "Newkirk..."

Newkirk spun and lunged, ripping the leash from Carter's hand. He leaped and landed on a filthy American Lieutenant. As the man shoved his hand into his pocket, Newkirk's jaws clenched. Bones snapped and the man gasped, opening his mouth to scream. Carter slapped his hand over the man's mouth. "Shush!" he said in English. "Don't scream."

Newkirk snarled, swiveling his head. "I think my arm is broken," the man gasped. "Get this bloody mutt off me."

"Wolf, off," Carter whispered. Newkirk glared but stepped aside. "Call me Walters," Carter continued, using a codename. "This is Wolf. We can help."

"My men..."

"Come on." Carter pulled the man up, wincing at the already swelling arm. "Let's go."

"I have to save my men."

Newkirk growled. Carter frowned. "Lieutenant, we have to hurry. Those Krauts are on the way." The man reluctantly nodded. Carter glanced to Newkirk. "Watch for the Germans," he said softly, using German again. He didn't like that Newkirk's ears flattened. "Come on."

Newkirk bared his teeth but followed. In fact, he moved in front, jerking the leash. Carter winced. While he couldn't read Newkirk's furry face, he couldn't miss the disgust and anger that showed in every line of the wolf's body. This would be a long trip home.

They slid through the dark woods and farmland, Newkirk always looking around. At a farm, he hopped a fenced, drove a small flock of sheep and several cows back and forth. Carter stared. "What is he doing?" Lieutenant Piper asked.

"I think he's covering our trail. Let me splint your arm." Carter took off his jacket and shirt, tearing the shirt into strips. Then he found several sticks and splinted the arm. "I'm sorry, I don't have any aspirin."

""Where are we going?"

"A safehouse. Then you go back to London." Carter turned as Newkirk padded up beside him. Piper jerked away. "He won't bite you again. He was just scared."

"_He's_ scared? He's a damn monster. What is he crossed with, a rhinoceros?"

"Come on. We need to keep moving."

They started off again, Carter removing the leash. Newkirk usually walked beside Carter and Carter often found himself absently stroking the thick fur. _I have to stop this! It's Newkirk, not a dog!_ Yet Newkirk never objected and without fail, Carter's fingers would find their way back into the black fur. They rested finally in a small cave, waiting out part of the day.

Lieutenant Piper shifted uncomfortably on the cave floor. He looked up, jerking as he noted the dog watching him again. Walters slept restlessly, the dog beside him. Piper stared at the dog. He knew dogs-they didn't like being stared at. This one was no different yet instead of looking away, it merely lifted black lips and bared shining fangs. Piper's arm ached. He looked away and tried to sleep. When he finally roused to the sound of low tones, Walters bent over the dog, talking to it. _Lord, I would be rescued by some crazy man. And that odd mutt. _Piper stood up, arm throbbing. "Can we go now?" he asked.

"Sure. It's not far now." Walters stretched. "It should be getting dark."

"Where are we going?"

"I can't tell you exactly where yet. But you should be back in London in a week or two."

"Where I can wait for my arm to heal."

Walters flushed, fingers twining in the dog's thick fur. "Wolf didn't mean it. He must have thought you were a threat."

"It's a damn dog, Walters. He didn't think at all. He can't." Piper patted his jacket. "I wish I had something to eat."

"Come on." Walters gestured and the dog led the way outside. Piper frowned. Wolf paced ahead, sniffing the air.

"Could he hunt us some food?" Piper asked.

"Maybe. But he won't. He'll look for any Germans."

Piper shook his head. "You really like that dog."

"He's my friend." The dog paced back to them.

"He's just a dog, Walters."

Walter ran a grimy hand over the dog's large ears and head. "Let's get moving."

The dog headed off, flashing his teeth at Piper. After the long hours spent walking before they had taken their short nap, Wolf alone seemed energetic. He jogged ahead, continually looking around but always returning to Walters. Winding through the trees, the dog uncannily seemed to find paths. Only once did the dog stop. Walters followed suit, holding Piper's uninjured arm. For long minutes, Wolf stood still then he crept forward into a low stalk. Piper started forward only to have Walters yank him back. "No," Walters said.

Wolf lunged forward, pouncing into a thicket. A squawk and French cursing followed. Walters grinned as a tiny man emerged from the shrubbery, pushing at Wolf who bounced around him. The man, clad in black and with black greasepaint on his face, grinned wildly. "It is good to see you!" He hugged Walters and rubbed Wolf's ears.

"This is Lt. Piper. His plane went down." Walters gestured to Piper. "Lieutenant, follow him."

Piper nodded, followed the short man until he spied barbed wire. "What the..."

"Shh!" The man clasped his hand over Piper's mouth. "Just follow me!" He pulled on a tree trunk and it opened. Piper knew his eyes were widening but he scrambled after the man, biting back yelps of pain as his arm was jostled. In a moment, he stood in a tunnel where a tall man in a bomber jacket with Colonel insignia poured coffee.

"LeBeau. Who did you find?"

"Lt. Piper," the short man said. "And Carter and ah, Wolf. They're OK."

The man grinned. "Good. Welcome to Stalag 13, Lieutenant. I'm Colonel Hogan."

"Hello, sir." Piper saluted awkwardly.

"At ease, Lieutenant. Hungry?'

"Starved."

"What happened?"

"My plane went down. Walters found me."

"LeBeau, can you get some food? I'm sure Carter and Newkirk are hungry too. Lieutenant, are you hurt?"

"Broken arm."

Hogan tapped LeBeau. "Get Wilson, too." He stepped forward as the man left. "Let me see that arm." Piper winced as Hogan unwrapped the shirt bandages. "Ugly. Get this in the crash?"

"No. The damn dog bit me." Piper looked at Hogan. "Is he yours?"

Hogan smiled oddly. "You could say that," he said. "He _bit _you?"

"Yeah. He's not too friendly."

"All depend on his moods." Hogan shook his head. "I have a medic coming." He turned his head as a tall black man entered the room. "This is Kinch. Kinch, radio London. Let them know we found Lt. Piper."

"Yes, sir. I have fresh coffee."

"Colonel, what about my men?"

Hogan looked startled. Piper heard wood creaking and Walters landed beside him, followed by another man with dark hair, dressed in a black shirt and slacks. "Carter, were there more men?"

"Who's Carter?"

"That's me," Walters said, pulling off the German overcoat. "Sergeant Carter. I couldn't give you my real name." He handed the coat to Hogan. "This is Corporal Newkirk."

"Hey," Newkirk said, setting aside what looked like Wolf's collar and washing his hands. "Iron Eagle been upset, gov?"

"Going crazy. You two want to explain while Wilson sees to Piper's arm?"

"Can we eat first?" Carter asked, changing his clothes.

Hogan rolled his eyes and nodded.

Soon Carter and Newkirk ate stew and sandwiches in Hogan's quarters. "You bit him?" LeBeau demanded as the two explained. Newkirk shrugged. Kinch leaned on the table.

"I have to hear this."

"He had a gun. I had to react." Newkirk sipped coffee, rubbed his forehead. "I only have my teeth, mate."

"You broke his arm," Hogan said. "Both bones."

"Used my back teeth. I have strong jaws."

"How did you guys tear apart the facility?" Carter demanded. "The whole place was going up when we left."

Hogan, Kinch, and LeBeau exchanged startled looks. "We just used grenades," Kinch said.

"I think you hit a gas main," Carter said. "We got photos and papers."

"Newkirk?" Hogan asked as his Englishman tore a hunk of bread. Newkirk looked up.

"Hmm?"

"You OK?"

"Got a thorn in my paw." Hogan frowned. "I'm fine, gov. Just hungry."

"You spent a long time as a wolf," Carter said.

"And?"

"It just worried me."

Newkirk shrugged. "I'm fine."

"What did you smell in the facility?" Kinch asked.

"Chemicals, smoke, fuel scents. Gas and other odors. People."

Hogan nodded. "We need to study those photos and files." He leaned against the bunk. "What about Piper's men?"

"We barely got 'im and ourselves out," Newkirk said. "I'm still shocked we actually got away."

"He's right," Carter said. "Newkirk had to drive cows and sheep across a field to cover our trail."

"OK. Start from the top." Hogan poured coffee. "What cows and sheep?"

Carter and Newkirk began again. "The Krauts have dogs," Newkirk said. "So when we came to a farm, I tried to cover our scent. I drove livestock across our path to cover the scent."

Hogan let Kinch and LeBeau ask questions, watching Newkirk's and Carter's reactions. As the men told their tale, Hogan again pondered Newkirk's abilities. _Those gifts are useful. He scented his way back home. And he could have run here in a few hours. God, what could I do with those abilities? What if all of us could shift? What is it like to be able to hear and smell like a wolf?_

"Why did you bite him?" Kinch asked suddenly.

"He had a gun. I wasn't going to let him shoot Carter or me."

Hogan nodded. A knock and Hogan opened the door. Wilson stood there.

"Come on," he said. Wilson stepped inside. "How is he?"

"I put his arm in a cast. When did we get a dog?"

"One of Oskar's," Kinch said.

"Must be a huge dog," Wilson said. "Piper will be fine, I think. I hope Oskar's dog doesn't have rabies."

"He doesn't," Newkirk said a bit sourly.

"So how are we going to do this?" Carter asked.

"What?" Hogan asked.

"How are Newkirk and I coming back?"

"Good question. I want you two to just show up outside the wire at roll call."

Newkirk nodded, gulping coffee. "Are you OK?" Wilson asked.

"Fine, why?"

"You're putting a heck of a lot of sugar in your coffee."

"Sweet tooth," Newkirk said.

"Ten minutes to roll call!" Mills yelled.

"Go," Hogan said. "And make sure you don't get shot!" Newkirk and Carter headed out.

"Do he always eat sugar like that?" Wilson asked.

"Some, why?" Kinch asked.

"Diabetes?" Wilson murmured.

"What?" Hogan demanded.

"I'm wondering if he has diabetes. It might explain some things. Does he eat a lot of sugar?"

LeBeau looked at Hogan. "He eats candy and chocolate," he said slowly.

"It may be nothing," Wilson said. "I can test him."

Hogan nodded. Wilson left and Kinch looked at Hogan. "Colonel? Diabetes?"

"I don't think so," Hogan mused. "I wonder if it's the wolf..."

Now LeBeau looked confused. "The wolf?"

"Sugar. Dogs like cookies. Why not wolves?"

***A/N-Carter spoke in German throughout the facility and whenever the Germans were around.**


	10. Chapter 10

Newkirk whistled tunelessly as he leafed through an old magazine. Carter scribbled in a notebook and finally sighed. "I am so bored," he said.

"Cooler does that, mate," Newkirk said from the other cell.

"Two weeks," Carter grumbled.

"Beats two months."

"Aren't you bored?" Carter said.

"Course. But at least we're back and we got the bloody mission done."

"I guess."

Carter looked at Newkirk who suddenly put his magazine down and looked at the door. "Someone's coming," Newkirk said.

"Who?"

"I can hear them, mate, not see them. Schultz and someone..."

Schultz appeared with Mueller. "You come with us, Carter," Schultz said.

"Why?" Carter demanded.

"Yeah, why?" Newkirk asked.

"Be quiet, Englander," Schultz said, opening Carter's cell door.

"Why me?" Carter asked.

"Because the Kommandant says so."

Carter followed Schultz with a quick wave to Newkirk.

Outside the cooler, Hogan and Klink waited. "Sergeant Carter, Colonel Hogan has told me of your speech writing skills. I need you to punch up my speech for the Stalag Kommandant meeting."

"Sure, sir," Carter said, glancing at Hogan.

"In return, I will release you from the cooler."

"Thank you," Carter said.

"I will send the transcript to you tonight."

"Yes, sir." Carter smiled. "I'm sure it'll be great."

"Naturally." Klink spun and left. Carter glanced at his CO.

"Speechwriting?"

"I had to think of something. No one can make sense of those formulas in those files."

"What about Newkirk?"

"I couldn't spring both of you. He'll be fine." In the cooler, Newkirk began pacing.

LeBeau shoved food into a basket and headed for the cooler. He handed Schultz a plate and slid inside the cell.

Newkirk practically pounced on him. "'Bout time," he said.

"You are not starving, Newkirk."

"It's not that, I'm going ruddy mad in here. What's going on?"

LeBeau sat close to Newkirk. "Colonel Hogan got Carter out because no one understood the formulas in the files and photos."

Newkirk nodded as he ate. "And?"

"That is why Carter is out. Mon Colonel could not think of a reason for you yet."

"I'll come over after lights out."

"Just be careful."

"Always."

LeBeau glanced at Newkirk. "Have you been feeling all right?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Wilson thinks you may have diabetes."

"What?"

"You are thin and you eat a lot of sugar."

"Because it tastes good," Newkirk said, rolling his eyes. "I don't have diabetes and I'm not thin."

"You do eat a lot, mon ami."

"I 'ave to. Can't run without fuel, mate." Newkirk gave LeBeau a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"That flyer does not like you."

"Piper?"

"Oui. He thinks you are a savage dog."

"That one? Not bloody worried."

"You broke his arm."

"I know." Newkirk finished the pie. He looked at LeBeau. "It worries you?"

"It is frightening, Pierre. You are part beast."

"I wouldn't 'urt you," Newkirk said.

"Oui, I know." LeBeau patted Newkirk's shoulder. "But it is a bit frightening." He smiled. "You made a handsome dog." Newkirk groaned.

"I had orders, mate."

"And you did well. We will have to make you a special collar."

"Watch it, frog. I do 'ave fangs, remember?" LeBeau laughed and stood up. Newkirk gave him a startled look. "You're not leaving already, are you?"

"I have to get back, Newkirk."

"Come on, mate. Play me a few hands of gin."

"I can not. Besides, your nose gives you an unfair advantage."

"I'll give you an advantage. Come on, Louie, it's boring as 'ell."

"I have to go," LeBeau said. He didn't miss the flash of anxiety in Newkirk's eyes but the Englishman nodded. As he left, he felt Newkirk watching him.

Newkirk paced the cell, eagerly awaiting lights out. When Mueller finally checked on him and declared lights out, Newkirk waited another 30 minutes then hurried to the barracks. He heard Piper and Kinch talking before he saw them. He smelled coffee and tea and his mouth watered suddenly as the rich smell of chocolate filled the air.

"Hey, Newkirk," Kinch said. "Should have known you'd be here. LeBeau made some chocolate torte for Klink and brought some for us."

"Great. Hello, Lieutenant."

"Hello. Aren't you supposed to be in the cooler?"

"Me second 'ome," Newkirk chuckled as he accepted a thick wedge of chocolate torte. "We come and go a lot."

"Kinch?" came Hogan's voice. He stepped around the corner. "Oh, hey, Newkirk. What are you doing here?"

"Bored," Newkirk shrugged. "Anything you need from me?" He ate the wedge of chocolate slowly.

"Not yet. Maybe tomorrow or the next night to take the Lieutenant out."

Newkirk nodded, grinning as LeBeau and Carter joined them. He chatted amiably to Piper, noting Carter watching him. When Hogan told him to return to the cooler, rather earlier than he planned, he protested.

"'Ave a heart, gov. Ruddy boring, it is."

"Conjugate German verbs," Hogan said.

"Play poker with Mueller," LeBeau suggested.

"Can't, he's too busy chatting with Schmidt. "

"Take a book," Kinch said. "Here." He handed Newkirk a book of Shakespeare.

"You're joking, right? He's from my homeland."

"Here." Hogan handed Newkirk a thick book. "Russian history."

Newkirk groaned but left for the cooler, carrying the history book.

It was Hogan himself who took Newkirk his breakfast. To his surprise, Newkirk just shook his head. Pale and sweaty, Newkirk just laid on the cot. "What's wrong?" Hogan asked.

"Stomach ache," Newkirk muttered. His fingers clenched and relaxed a few times.

"I'll get Wilson."

"I'm fine, gov."

"Newkirk..."

Newkirk merely looked away. Hogan frowned and went to find Schultz. "Mueller said he was sick in the night, Colonel." Schultz glanced over his shoulder. "He spent a long time in the latrine. But he has been all right this morning."

"I'll send Wilson in to see him."

Wilson didn't find anything wrong and by evening, Newkirk again paced his cell. He tried to read but the restlessness that plagued him made him finally toss the book aside. He wished someone was here with him._I hate this. I bloody need to be with the others. This is driving me bonkers. _He fidgeted until Schmidt said "Lights out" and left immediately. Carter met him in the tunnels. "What are you doing here?" Carter blurted.

"Bored."

"You better head back. Burkhalter is coming."

"So?"

"You know how Klink gets."

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "It'll be fine."

"Carter, have you figured out those formulas yet?" Hogan's voice echoed in the tunnel. "Newkirk! How are you?"

"Fine."

"You need to get back to the cooler. Burkhalter's on the way."

"Come on, gov..."

"Sorry, Newkirk. I'll see if I can spring you for waiter detail." Newkirk groaned. Hogan gave a shrug.

"Colonel, I'm going mad."

"Sorry."

Newkirk sighed and headed to the cooler, dragging his feet. Carter glanced at his Colonel. "Colonel, does he seem a little lonely to you?"

Hogan looked at Newkirk's slumped shoulders. "Lonely?"

Carter shrugged. "When he and I brought Piper here, he acted dog like."

"He was supposed to."

"No, I mean, he, um..." He blushed slightly. "He let me pet him."

Hogan titled his head. "He let you what?"

"Pet him."

"He was supposed to act like a dog."

"No, Colonel. He seemed to like it. He has an animal side. He's not just Newkirk in a wolf suit."

Hogan frowned. "Thanks, Carter."

"So what do we do?"

"Get Newkirk to talk. He needs to let us know what's going on."

"Maybe he doesn't know about it. He's only been a werewolf about six months."

"I know."

"Maybe Elsa could talk to us," Carter suggested. His hopeful tone made Hogan inwardly smile.

"While I know you and every one else would love to see Elsa, you hardly would be listening to her. Besides, Gregori and his pack don't know of the operation. I want to keep it that way."

Newkirk paced his cell. Before Colonel Hogan came to Stalag 13, he'd been in the cooler on an almost weekly basis. He knew well how to handle it. Sometimes, he'd even liked it. But now, separated from his friends, the isolation made him restless and stressed. He knew what was wrong-he'd discovered early on he needed to be near at least one of _his_ pack to keep his equilibrium. Yet he would never tell any of his friends. _I barely understand it. How could they? They're my pack-as close as I have to a pack, anyway. But this is going to make me daft. _He looked around. "Hey, Mueller, come play a game or two," he called.

Mueller walked into sight. "Be still, Corporal. I do not have time for games tonight. Go to sleep."

Newkirk tilted his head. "What's going on then?"

"General Burkhalter is coming. Go to sleep, Newkirk." Mueller left and Newkirk groaned mentally. He eyed the block to the tunnel. _I could run. I wouldn't be gone long. I can't. The governor would kill me. _Newkirk spun and kept pacing.

Hogan smiled at Schultz as the heavy set guard opened the door. Newkirk practically leaped out of the cell. "Nein! Back, Newkirk!"

Newkirk backed up, looking at Hogan with anxiety in his eyes. "Got breakfast," Hogan said.

"Great. I'm starved."

When Hogan sat down next to him, Newkirk felt his shoulders unknot. "Klink said you need to serve dinner tonight," Hogan said. Newkirk grinned.

_Finally!_


	11. Chapter 11

True to his word, Hogan had Newkirk sprung by lunchtime. Newkirk joined the rest of barracks two in the kantine, crinkling his nose at smell of saurkraut. "Eat up," Kinch said, shoving wilted cabbage around on his plate.

"No thanks. Do we have any meat?"

"Sausage." Carter pushed a plate of sausage with potatoes towards Newkirk. Newkirk shrugged and ate. LeBeau shook his head in disbelief.

The men cleaned the camp. Hogan didn't miss Newkirk chatting to everyone. _Maybe Carter is right. He got lonely. But why? He's been in the cooler a lot of times. _Newkirk handed Carter a cigarette and Hogan jerked. _He doesn't share cigarettes often-but I haven't seen him smoking for awhile..._

"Kinch, when's the last time you saw Newkirk smoke?" he asked in a low tone.

Kinch blinked. "Not for a while," he said after a pause. "In fact, I see him roll them in his fingers but he doesn't smoke them."

"Huh."

Hogan stepped over to Newkirk. "When did you give up smoking?" he asked quietly.

Newkirk shrugged. "Four, five months ago."

"Why?"

Newkirk sighed. "Smell," he replied. "And the taste. I can't handle it in my mouth or lungs." He glanced at Hogan. "You noticed?"

"You gave Carter a cigarette and it made me think. Any other changes?"

"I don't wear a lot of aftershave or cologne," Newkirk said.

Hogan thoughtfully nodded. "Is it hard in the barracks?"

Newkirk shifted. "Sometimes," he admitted quietly. "Heavy smoke or heavy cologne can be irritating."

"Anyone in particular?"

Newkirk shook his head. Hogan knew he was lying yet he appreciated Newkirk's refusal to pick on a friend. Both men turned as the gates opened and Burkhalter's car entered. "This should be fun," Kinch said.

"Why is he here again?" Carter asked.

"Monthly visit," Hogan replied. Klink hurried out and the two Germans went into his office. "Let's have some coffee, men."

The talk was disappointing-Burkhalter's visit was merely routine and he brought little useful information. Yet Hogan remained optimistic. After all, he knew he would be invited to supper and maybe he'd discover something.

He did discover something-Burkhalter and Klink were tremendous bores, especially when they were semi intoxicated. Newkirk served dinner with a slight smirk while Hogan tried several times to excuse himself.

"Nonsense, Hogan! You are the only reason I can stomach Klink here." Burkhalter drank another glass of schnapps. "Besides the food, that is." He glanced at Newkirk. "What about you, Englander?"

"I'm here because I was shot down, General."

"Of course! The Luftwaffe can not be beat."

"Except over Britain," Newkirk muttered. "And Russia."

"That's enough, Newkirk!" Klink stood and pointed to the door. "You may leave."

"Of course, Kommandant."

Newkirk walked to the door with a quick grin at Hogan.

In the barracks, Newkirk happily made coffee. Kinch pushed him away from the pot. "I want coffee, not tar," he said.

"Is Piper OK?"

"Fine. Restless."

"Where's Andrew?"

"Studying the formulas again." As if hearing his name, Carter appeared from the tunnel.

"I got it!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Kinch said.

"The formulas! It's fuel for a certain rocket," Carter blurted. "It's made to burn and ..."

Newkirk held up a hand. "Easy mate," he said. "Wait until the Colonel comes in."

"OK."

Hogan returned to the barracks. "I figured it out!" Carter repeated. "It's a rocket fuel!"

"What?"

"I don't have all of it but it's a kind of new fuel!"

"Good work Carter! After lights out, go with Kinch and tell London what it is. "

"Me?"

"I don't understand the formulas. Therefore you talk to them."

"OK."

While the others drank coffee, Newkirk shuffled cards and relaxed. The stress of the cooler had vanished and he silently breathed in the scents. When he climbed into bed late that night, he fell into an exhausted slumber.

In the morning, Newkirk woke first as usual, listening to the sounds of the camp. He hopped quietly down, checking his friends. Everyone slumbered and he stepped over to Hogan's door. Through the wood of the door he heard Hogan's breathing and he relaxed. With a inhuman, swift move, he slipped outside and stood in the coolish predawn air. He breathed deeply. It felt like it would be hot again later in the day and Newkirk hoped he didn't have clean up detail. He leaned against the barracks wall.

When morning roll call finished, Hogan gathered his men. "Newkirk, you and I are taking Piper out tonight. LeBeau, you and Carter are meeting with Sleeping Beauty. Make sure you give both the files and film to Sleeping Beauty."

"Oui," LeBeau said.

"Kinch, radio London tonight and make sure they know Piper is on his way and so are the formulas."

"Yes, sir."

Hogan watched Newkirk that night, secretly enjoying the deep breathing Newkirk indulged in. Then he gestured to Piper and they headed out.

When they handed Piper over, Hogan looked at Newkirk. "Like a pint?"

he asked.

Newkirk gave him a suspicious look. "Are you joking?"

"No. Come on. We can check out the Haufbrau."

Newkirk grinned. "You lead, mate."

When they headed back to the Stalag, it was later than either man had imagined. "Sky's light already?" Newkirk blurted.

"That's not dawn," Hogan said, chest clenching. "It's fire. And it's at Stalag 13."

They broke into a run.

Hogan and Newkirk raced through the woods. "Dogs are loose," Newkirk said.

"Right. Newkirk, run ahead. See what's going on."

"No. Not leaving you behind."

"Newkirk..." Newkirk turned his head and Hogan sighed. "Fine."

As they neared the Stalag, the stench of smoke filled the air. "People ahead," Newkirk blurted in surprise. "Baker, Henderson, and Greyson."

Hogan cursed in German and ran faster. Newkirk grabbed his arm before he ran into Baker. "Colonel!" Baker exclaimed.

"What's going on?"

"Fire. A plane came down somewhere nearby. It must have broke apart in the air and part of it tore a hole in the fence. Three barracks caught on fire from flying debris." Baker exhaled. "We thought it'd look funny if some people didn't escape. So I and a few of the men came out here."

"Anyone hurt?" Hogan demanded. Baker looked away and Hogan's heart felt as it it stopped. "Who?"

"Hanks, Jeffries, and Carter," Greyson whispered.

Hogan felt Newkirk's stillness beside him. "Baker, wait here and let Schultz catch you."

"Yes, sir," Baker said.

"Let's go Newkirk."

Newkirk and Hogan raced inside, not surprised when Ludwig and Heidi ran up to them. "Go on," Hogan said and the two dogs darted off. Smoke hung in the air and Hogan swallowed at the blackened holes in several barracks. Soldiers watered the burned timbers. Newkirk immediately headed to where Kinch stood with LeBeau, Hogan behind him.

"Mon Colonel!" LeBeau blurted.

"How's Carter?" Hogan asked.

"Alive but bad," Kinch said. "He's the worst, Colonel. Wilson ordered us away-said it was too hard to work with us there."

"I'll go see him."

"Colonel?" Newkirk asked, a touch of pleading in his voice.

"Come with me, Newkirk." Hogan noted LeBeau and Kinch following them but said nothing.

Carter laid on a cot, swathed in bandages. Wilson sat beside him, checking the IV that ran into Carter's arm. "Wilson?" Hogan asked quietly.

"Colonel, thank God." Wilson grabbed Hogan's arm, pulling him aside. Newkirk immediately went to Carter's side, touching the uninjured arm, Kinch and LeBeau directly behind him.

"How is he?" Hogan spoke very softly, well aware Newkirk was probably still able to hear them.

"Not good."

"What are his chances?"

Wilson bit his lip. "Maybe 10%," he whispered. "I'm not a doctor, Colonel."

Hogan's stomach churned. _Not Carter. He's too young, too innocent. What can we do...? _"Newkirk!" Newkirk jumped to Hogan's side. Hogan_ looked _at him and Newkirk backed up. "Do it, Peter."

"No," Newkirk blurted. "Colonel, no. I can't!"

"He's dying, Newkirk." Hogan tried to speak quietly, gazing steadily at Newkirk. "You have to."

"Gov, I can't!"

"He could die!"

"And I could kill him. Colonel, no!"

"He's our friend, Pierre!" LeBeau blurted. Newkirk whirled. A puzzled Wilson grabbed Newkirk's arm.

"What?" he demanded. "What do you have Newkirk?"

"A way to save him," Kinch said, hope in his voice.

"Or kill him," Newkirk snapped. He'd paled to the color of milk.

"Do it," Wilson ordered. "I don't care what it is."

"No," Newkirk said. "You don't understand, any of you. I can't!"

"He's your friend!" Wilson yelled. "Damn it, Peter, he could die!"

"And I could be the one to kill him!"

Wilson slammed a fist into Newkirk's jaw, splitting Newkirk's lip. Hogan yanked Wilson away. "You fucking coward! One of your best friends is dying and you could save him and you do nothing?"

Newkirk's eyes flashed and he grabbed for Wilson, only stopping when LeBeau shoved him back. "You have no idea what you're asking," he snarled.

"Get out of my sight!" Wilson shoved Hogan aside,and went back to Carter.

Newkirk literally curled his lips. He looked at the others. LeBeau looked away while Kinch stared at the wall. Colonel Hogan simply gazed at him.

"Peter?"

Carter opened his eyes, called to Newkirk in a weak voice. Newkirk glared at me and touched Carter's hand. "Hey, Andrew."

"I heard. I don't want to die." He feebly stretched out and grasped Newkirk's hand. "Please." Newkirk shuddered and licked his lips.

"Andrew..."

"Peter, please. Don't let me die."

Newkirk closed his eyes and nodded. "All right. I'll do it." He reopened his eyes and tried to smile. "Me and you, Andrew." He looked around "You need to leave. All of you. And keep everyone away from here."

"No way," Wilson exclaimed.

"All right," Colonel Hogan said. "Joe, come with us. Newkirk, good luck." He gripped newkirk's shoulder.

"But, Colonel..." Wilson stared at Hogan.

"Sargeant, trust me. Follow us."


	12. Chapter 12

Newkirk trembled. Carter watched him, eyes trusting albeit slightly glazed. "I trust you," he whispered.

"Thanks, mate." Newkirk swallowed hard. Carefully he thumped his arm and slid a needle into his vein. He filled two vials with his blood and then injected one into Carter's tube. Then he loosened the bandage. His stomach knotted at the smell of charred flesh. Quickly he poured the blood over Carter's burn and refastened the bandage. Then he stripped and shifted. Carter felt the cot dip as Newkirk gingerly laid his head and forequarters on the cot. Carter reached out and began stroking the huge head. As he drifted into morphine induced sleep, he felt a tongue lick his arm and soft fur under his fingers.

Newkirk laid for hours beside Carter, jerking his head as Hogan came in. The Colonel sat beside him. "Newkirk, no matter what happens, remember I ordered you," he said quietly. "I take responsibility."

Newkirk snorted, crinkling his lips and flattening his ears. Hogan looked at him and then at Carter. Awkwardly he reached out and touched Newkirk's head, between the green eyes. Newkirk closed his eyes and Hogan rubbed his head quickly. The he took Carter's hand. "Come on, Andrew," he whispered. "We need you." He glanced at Newkirk who still had his eyes closed. "Stay with us."

Hogan spent the night beside Carter, noting Newkirk stayed in wolf form. He talked to Carter quietly, ignoring Newkirk. When Carter began muttering about being cold, Hogan covered Carter with a blanket and Newkirk delicately laid so his furry body warmed Carter. Carter mumbled sleepily and dug his fingers deep into Newkirk's fur.

When roll call neared, Hogan laid a hand on Newkirk's side. Newkirk looked at him and he tapped his watch. Newkirk gently leaped to the floor and hastily changed into his clothes. Hogan touched Carter's forehead. "He's starting to fever," he said.

"That's quick. Then again, I bloody put it right in his blood stream. Colonel, I'll need to be with him." Newkirk inhaled. "If this is the werewolf virus, I think I know 'ow to help him."

"All right," Hogan said. "Return here after roll call. I'll let Wilson know."

Newkirk swallowed hard at Carter's grey face. "Be right back, mate," he said and Carter looked glassily at him. "You just hold on."

"OK." Carter managed a wan smile.

"We'll bring you some breakfast," Hogan said.

All the men took turns with Carter. LeBeau spoon fed soup to him and Kinch wiped his face with cool cloths. Wilson monitored the morphine, biting his lip as fever kept increasing. Klink visited as well, trying to be helpful. Newkirk tried to always keep a hand on Carter. When the night came, Newkirk was left alone with Carter, who whimpered as Newkirk gently shook him. "Listen to me, Andrew," he said gruffly. Carter opened his eyes. "I know it hurts. You know I made it. You can do. You need to shift and the pain will stop."

"Arm..."

"I know. It'll start healing, too. I just want you to follow my lead." Newkirk stripped and held Carter's hand. "Just feel," he said.

He shifted. Carter breathed. He fumbled for the broad head, felt the soft ears and then felt Newkirk shift again, felt the bone pop and shift. Newkirk laid Carter's hand flat against his face and again he turned.

For over an hour, Newkirk murmured encouragement, shifted back and forth. He laid full length against Carter, shifted so Carter could feel numerous bones and muscles turn and melt into wolf form and back. Carter shook his head, gasped, and then gritted his teeth and tensed.

It took Newkirk holding Carter tight as if a lover and shifting when something clicked in Carter and he allowed his body to melt as it wanted to. Scent and sound exploded around him and he struggled to stand in a mess of bandages and pain.

A thud and he spotted Newkirk, now standing on the floor, tail waving slowly. Carter followed suit, holding his foreleg up. It ached and he felt a whimper erupt from his throat. Newkirk instantly stood beside him, gently nudging him. Carter laid down on the cool floor and looked around.

His sight definitely was different-sharper images but slightly odder colors. And scents rippled around him. Newkirk, antiseptic, soap, blood-Carter breathed deep, allowing his nostrils to flare widely. He felt a wiggle behind him and looked over his shoulder to see his own tail waving.

Newkirk bent his head and sniffed Carter. He rubbed his head against his friend's skull and breathed his scent into his lungs. The wolf in Newkirk was thrilled to have a four legged friend. He also knew his responsibilities had doubled as he would have to care for this new wolf packmate. He gently nipped Carter's neck and laid beside him. Carter looked at his burned foreleg and pulled off the remaining bandages. Newkirk looked over and his ears flicked. Scorched flesh wept serum from shoulder down to just above his paw. Newkirk growled low in his chest. Carter stood, dabbing his paw on the ground as he walked. Newkirk sat on his haunches as Carter limped around the infirmary, stopping often to sniff things and lay down to rest.

Newkirk finally walked over, breathed into Carter's neck ruff. Carter twisted his head, Newkirk laid a foreleg over Carter's shoulders and then shifted. "Just like shaking your tail, mate." Carter growled. Newkirk pushed his hand hard against Carter's shoulder and flashed a smile. "Come on," he said.

Carter sighed and Newkirk waited. Awkwardly Carter shifted, crying out as his arm bumped the cot. Then he stared at Newkirk as the Englishman dressed. "It worked," he blurted.

"You bet, mate. Now 'ow about you get a fresh bandage and get some sleep?"

"Sleep? But I'm a werewolf now!"

"We still sleep, mate. And you're still 'urt. "

"Will I live?" Carter stared at Newkirk.

Newkirk looked at him. "Sure," he said. Carter frowned.

"Don't lie," he said.

"OK. I think you will." Newkirk clasped Carter's hand. "I've done all I could."

"Thank you, Peter."

"Don't thank me yet. You 'ave no idea what I've done to you."

Newkirk stumbled into the barracks. "How is he?" LeBeau asked from his bunk. Newkirk glanced around, saw LeBeau was the only one awake.

"OK so far," Newkirk whispered. He gave a half smile. "He turned."

LeBeau gave a cheer and enthustically kissed Newkirk on both cheeks. "Hey!" Newkirk blurted as the rest of the barracks woke.

"That is wonderful!"

"What is?" Hogan asked, coming from his quarters and heading directly for the coffee pot. "Newkirk, I thought you were with Carter."

"He's doing better," Newkirk said.

"Will he live?" Mills asked.

"I'm no medic," Newkirk said. "He seems a bit better. Getting a bit hairy because 'e hasn't shaved but he's talking."

The barracks broke into excited chatter and Hogan grinned. Newkirk watched Hogan's shoulders relax and smiled as well. Kinch came over, bumped Newkirk's shoulder. "Thanks," Kinch muttered.

"You're welcome."

Hogan laid a hand on Newkirk's shoulder. "Thanks," he said, echoing Kinch. He handed Newkirk a mug of coffee.

"I just hope he can cope," Newkirk said. He took a sip and looked at Hogan. "I'm bloody knackered."

"Roll call then sleep. We'll check on Carter," Hogan said.

Newkirk opened his mouth to protest then nodded. He patiently endured roll call, then crawled into his bunk and fell asleep. Hogan gestured and Kinch and LeBeau followed him to the infirmary.

Wilson stood over Carter. "How is he?" Hogan asked.

"I'm better," Carter replied.

"Wilson?"

Wilson gave an odd smile. "He's better," he said. "He can be moved to the hospital."

"How are the others?"

"Sore but all right." Wilson pulled Hogan aside. "What did Newkirk do? I have a right to know, sir."

"You will, Wilson. I promise." Hogan looked at Carter. "Give me until tomorrow."

He went to Carter, smiling as the young man grinned up at him. "Hey, Colonel. I still hurt but I'm better."

"Good. I'll go with you to the hospital."

"Heck, do I need the hospital?"

"We'll let the doctor decide. Wilson, could you run and get Kommandant Klink please?"

"All right." Wilson left and Hogan looked quickly at Wilson.

"How was it?"

"Swell! I mean, I had four legs and a tail! And I can smell so much and the aching in my bones stopped."

"Good," Hogan said.

"We will have to make you a special collar too," LeBeau teased. Carter grinned.

"Good to see you're better," Kinch said.

"Thanks. And thanks all of you for convincing Newkirk. I know he didn't want to."

"He was afraid you would die of fever," Kinch said.

"I know," Carter said.

"I will make you something special," LeBeau promised.

"Burgers?" LeBeau winced dramatically while Hogan and Kinch grinned. "Where's Newkirk?" Carter asked.

"Sleeping," Hogan said. "And you should too. LeBeau can you bring him some oatmeal or something?"

"Oui."

Klink swept in. "How are you, Carter?"

"Better, sir."

"Of course. German medicine is superb! Now, Hogan, the doctor is on his way."

"Good."

"And all the prisoners have been recaptured. I told you, Hogan, no one ever escapes from Stalag 13!"

"Oh, I know, I know." Hogan looked up as Newkirk came in. "Newkirk?"

"Hochstetter's here and General Burkhalter." Newkirk stepped next to Carter.

Schultz hurried into the infirmary. "Kommandant, General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter are here!"

"Corporal Newkirk has already told me," Klink said witheringly. He left in a swirl of overcoat. Hogan sighed.

"I'll be back," he said.

He headed outside. Burkhalter and Hochstetter were with Klink and Hogan sauntered over. "Hiya, General, Major. Come to fix our fence?"

"Not now Hogan!" Klink glared at Hogan.

"Why aren't the prisoners fixing the fence, Klink?" Hochstetter demanded.

"We offered but the Kommandant said no," Hogan said. "We were really disappointed. We already had a gate planned to put in it."

"Insolence," Klink snapped.

"Be glad your air force has poor aim, Hogan," Burkhalter said. "Did anyone die, Klink?'

"No, herr General!"

"And what did you have to do with this, Hogan?" Hochstetter asked.

Hogan's eyes widened as he spotted Newkirk slowly edging near Hochstetter, a slow circle that looked casual but definitely wasn't. For a heartbeat, Hogan tried to think what Newkirk could be doing then his mouth dried. _My God, he's stalking him! _Spotting Hogan's stare, Hochstetter whirled. "What are you doing?" Hochstetter roared.

For a horrifying moment, Hogan saw Newkirk's eyes glitter in a decidedly inhuman manner. Then Newkirk smiled, all white teeth and cold green eyes. "I'm just checking to see if the Kommandant knows when the doctor is arriving," he said.

"The doctor? For who?" Burkhalter asked.

"Sergeant Carter," Klink said. "He was the most badly injured. We thought he might die but he is very bright today."

"Let us see him," Burkhalter said.

Newkirk stiffened but Hogan edged near him. "Cool off," Hogan whispered.

"I'm fine, mate."

Hogan frowned. "And the stalking?"

Newkirk smiled. "Just keeping in practice."

Hogan shook his head. "Lord, I hope Carter's easier as a were than you."

In the infirmary, Kinch talked to Carter. Kinch stood as the Germans all crowded inside. "So how are you, Sergeant?" Burkhalter asked, looking at Carter.

"It hurts but I think I'll be OK." Carter stared at the Germans, nostrils and mouth twitching. "Sir."

"How did you get hurt?" Hochstetter leaned over Carter and both Hogan and Newkirk started forward.

"The barracks caught on fire . I helped someone and my sleeve caught on fire."

"Where were you Colonel?" Hochstetter demanded.

"In my quarters. "

"And no one escaped!" Klink trumpeted.

"How unusual," Hochstetter said.

"Has the doctor been here, Klink?" Burkhalter asked.

"Yes he has, General. He is coming again today."

"Fine. Come, Klink. I need some breakfast," Burkhalter ordered.

The Krauts left and Hogan looked at Carter. "Rest."

"Yes, sir." Carter's skin had acquired an odd, grey shade. "I'm just tired."

"I'll stay with him," Newkirk said.

"Fine. Be careful."

Newkirk nodded. Hogan left with Kinch. "Think Carter will be all right?" Kinch asked.

"Hope so," Hogan said. "what do you think?"

"He was pretty chipper."

"Good."

Carter fell asleep, holding Newkirk's hand. Newkirk sat patiently at his side until he heard footsteps. He placed Carter's hand on the cot with a gentle pat and stood.

The doctor nodded to Newkirk then began unwrapping Carter's arm. His eyebrows raised. "Amazing!" he said in German. "Your burn looks much better," he said in accented but clear English. "You will live, young man."

"Thank you. Ah, danke," Carter said. Newkirk bit his cheek.

_Like you bloody can't speak like a native,_he thought. He tried to focus on the wound. To his relief, he saw glimpses of pinkish healing flesh. He smiled.

Colonel Hogan sat down with Wilson in his quarters. "I told you I would tell you what Newkirk did," he started. "First you need to know this is absolutely secret. Only the command crew and you will know this secret. Even after the war, this will be classified. No one can know. Not the President of the United States. Not Churchill. Do you understand this?"

Wilson looked startled. "Yes, sir."

"Will you agree? This is a lifetime agreement. Think about it."

Wilson breathed deep. After a few moments he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said.

"Newkirk!"

Wilson looked up as the door opened and then he leaped back. "Christ!" he shouted. A huge black wolf strolled in, kicked the door close behind him. Hogan didn't seemed worried. "What is it, some kind of cross?" Wilson asked nervously.

"Wolf," Hogan said. He sipped his coffee as the wolf sat next to him. "Werewolf to be precise."

"What?"

"Werewolf. _Loup garou_ in French." Hogan smiled at the wolf. "Show him."

The wolf pulled a blanket from Hogan's lower bunk and wiggled under it. Then Newkirk appeared.

"Hey, Wilson."

Wilson felt his world go black. When he woke, he found himself on Hogan's lower bunk. Newkirk and Hogan sat at the table, Newkirk in a robe. "You all right?" Newkirk asked, turning his head.

"I didn't see what I thought I saw..." Wilson whispered.

"Like this?" And Newkirk seemed to shimmer and the wolf sat in his chair, draped in the robe.

"Colonel!"

"It's all right, Wilson. Newkirk is still in there."

The wolf woofed.

Wilson slowly slid off the bunk. He reached out with a trembling hand and touched the wolf's head. The green eyes gleamed as the wolf looked up at him. "Impossible," he whispered.

A roll under his hand and Newkirk's hair was under his fingers. Then another roll and the black wolf's pointed ears were again under his hand. Wilson yanked his hand back. "Werewolf," Hogan said with a shrug.

"And you allowed this? God, Colonel, he's a damn monster!"

"Hey!" Newkirk sputtered as he shifted.

"You're a freak-my God, you didn't let him hurt Carter, did you, sir?"

"I let him save him," Hogan said sharply. "Sergeant, control yourself! Newkirk is still Newkirk."

Wilson breathed in. "Sorry," he mumbled. "How, Newkirk?"

"The mysterious fever," Newkirk said.

"So how about the other form?"

"What?"

"Wolfman."

Hogan grinned as Newkirk looked confused. "Wolfman?"

"I wondered that too," Hogan said. "Why don't you have a half wolf, half man form?"

"Like some pointy eared hairy man with a tail?" Newkirk asked. Wilson nodded. "I'm a werewolf. I can be a wolf or a human. Not something in between."

Wilson sat on Hogan's bunk, visibly trying to relax. "I didn't think such things were possible. Werewolves, I mean."

"There's not many of us."

"You didn't just infect Carter, did you?"

"I saved him," Newkirk said. "I 'adn't planned on it. The Colonel was right, though. I was the only one who could save him."

"The fever?"

"Stops when we shift. Believe me, I was worried."

"If the fever had hit him like it had hit you, he would definitely die." Wilson looked at Newkirk thoughtfully. "Will he-can he shift like you?"

"Yeah." Newkirk stretched. "He's a blond wolf, of course."

Wilson nodded. "Sorry about losing it."

"It's a bit disconcerting," Hogan said. "Useful, however."

"Can I see it again?" Wilson asked.

Newkirk rolled his eyes but shifted again. He shook the robe off and leaped to the floor. Wilson carefully ran his hands over Newkirk's muzzle and ears. Then he slowly ran his fingers over Newkirk's forelegs and back. Newkirk eyed him suspiciously . When Wilson touched his tail, Newkirk shook his head and stepped aside. "Sorry. I just can't figure out how it works."

Hogan tossed the robe over the wolf and Newkirk shifted. "It just does."

"I guess the proportions are right. You seem to weigh the same. You're just a massive wolf."

"I wanted you to know, Wilson, because I promised. Do you understand now?" Hogan gazed at Wilson.

"I won't say it's not terrifying but I can deal with it, sir."

"Just treat us like usual," Newkirk said.

Wilson nodded. "Newkirk, can you check on Carter?" Hogan asked.

"Course."

"Dress first."

"I'm not an idiot, mate," Newkirk snorted. Yet his smile was large and he hurried out the door. Hogan turned to Wilson.

"I understand it's shocking. He's not a freak or monster, however."

Wilson looked down. "I'm sorry. He's not normal, sir. I was surprised. But you're right." He looked at Hogan. "He's still Newkirk. And he did save Carter. Give me some time to acclimate, sir."

"I will. " Hogan reached over and clasped Wilson's shoulder. "It'll be fine, Wilson." He smiled. "I'll let you know all I can."

"Thanks. I need to know." Wilson sighed. "It could explain his increased heart rate. His metabolism is most likely higher than a human's."

"And the sugar?"

"It might simply be what he said-a sweet tooth."

"I guess we'll see."

Newkirk leaned over Carter who merely cracked open an eye. "I'm OK," he mumbled.

"You sure?"

"Achy but mainly sleepy."

"Morphine does that."

Carter drifted into sleep. Newkirk gently stroked back Carter's dirty hair. _Just don't hate me, mate, when you figure out what all goes along with this._


	13. Chapter 13

_**AN: I recently switched this to an M rating as the subjects and language are adult and there is vulgar language. I'm sure the teen rating is fine but I'd rather be safe than sorry.**_

A few nights later, Carter stood nervously by Newkirk. Newkirk pointed to a hollow log. Then he pulled off his clothes and tucked them into the log before shifting. Carter followed suit.

He lifted his head into the wind. The smell of the summer night poured over them like wine. Newkirk nudged him and Carter panted excitedly. This was his first time out with Newkirk and he had no idea what to expect. Newkirk flicked his tail and trotted off. Carter followed, ears and nose twitching. The aromas came at him in jumbles and every sound made him twist his head and ears. Newkirk occasionally nudged him or woofed to get his attention. Newkirk led Carter to a large clearing. There he stopped, sniffed the breeze, and turned to Carter. Gently he shoved Carter with his head and Carter bounced into the clearing.

Finally! He burst into a run, twisting and doubling back. Then he leaped into the air, testing his powerful legs. He sniffed the trees, breathed in the scent of rabbits and wild turkeys. He caught the odor of fox and a wild cat and he raced around the field wildly. After around 15 minutes, he paused and turned. Newkirk still watched him, mouth in a grin. Then Newkirk trotted into the clearing then bowed low, tail waving.

Carter tilted his head for a heartbeat then instinctively leaped forward. The two wolves wrestled, Newkirk easily pinning Carter. Powerful jaws playfully gripped flesh and they rolled, kicking each other. Then they ran, Carter grabbing at Newkirk's tail from time to time.

Much later and far away, both wolves drank from a clean stream. Newkirk sniffed the air, looked at the half moon, and then nudged Carter. He turned back towards camp, trotted off, looking at Carter once. Carter jumped after him. They loped lazily back to camp. Carter watched as Newkirk constantly checked the wind and brush, head up. As they neared the hollow log, Newkirk suddenly headed for a tree and leaped against the tree, tail wagging wildly. Carter breathed deep, scenting their Colonel.

Hogan dropped from the tree. "Surveying the area," he said. Newkirk snorted and shook his head. Carter held himself back for hopping up on his CO.

Then Newkirk went to the trunk and pulled out his clothes. He dressed and looked at his CO.

"Surveying?" he said softly.

"Got to scout around, Newkirk. How are you feeling, Carter?"

Carter grabbed his clothes and shifted. "Fine, sir," he said as he dressed. "And my arm feels good."

"Come on."

Hogan had watched the two werewolves run and had seen part of their play. When back in the tunnel, he walked the tunnels, deep in thought. Kinch found him and sighed. "Colonel, before you try it, I think there's a lot Newkirk hasn't told us."

"What are you talking about, Kinch?"

"Colonel, we know you. Newkirk has some incredible skills and I know you are thinking of how to use them. LeBeau and I actually talked about it. I was thinking of betting on when you would mention it."

Hogan actually looked embarrassed. "It has crossed my mind, that's it."

"Just talk to Carter after about a week or so. He may be a little more open than Newkirk."

Hogan shrugged.

_Several weeks later_

Tiger sipped her coffee slowly as the men talked. "Tiger?" Hogan said.

Tiger shook herself. "I am sorry, Robert. We received bad news from France last night."

"Oh?"

"What happened?" LeBeau demanded.

"It has nothing to do with our unit or yours," Tiger said. "We just found out a capable resistance group was found out. This is the third unit in France that has fallen."

"Damn," Hogan said. "I'm sorry, Tiger."

"This is war. We all know the risks of what we do. "

"No one escaped?" Kinch asked.

"Non. From what we have heard, one escaped but he was caught almost immediately. "

"Sorry, luv," Newkirk murmured.

"They have not died in vain. We will win and France will remember them as heroes. Now what can we do?"

After the meeting, Hogan walked Tiger through the woods. "Take care, Tiger," Hogan said after a long kiss.

"You, too, Robert."

"Tiger, do me a favor if you can. Find out just how those groups were captured."

"Pourqoui?"

"Just an idea."

"Oui. I shall try."

She slipped off and Hogan headed back to Stalag 13. Carter and Newkirk exchanged looks when Hogan entered. Hogan caught the quick glance and bit his inner cheek. _What are they thinking? And what's with the looks?_ He had to admit, he had been drastically worried about Carter and even now he worried. The two friends had become nearly inseparable and Hogan knew rumors were starting. Carter and Newkirk both watched him, Carter tilting his head. Hogan looked at Newkirk. "Look out?" Newkirk sighed.

Hogan grinned. "Reading my mind? Just check the compound and relieve Parks."

"You got it, gov." Newkirk headed topside, lightly squeezing LeBeau's shoulder.

"Carter, get some timers and bombs ready. We may be able to blow that bridge soon."

"Sure thing, sir."

Carter happily went to his lab. He heard his Colonel enter soon after but ignored him, concentrating on a tricky bit of wiring. When he had finished, Hogan spoke "Is it harder in here? The smells?"

"Not really, sir. I'm pretty used to it. Newkirk says I like nasty stenches." He grinned. "You can ask questions, sir, but I may not know all the answers."

"You've been a werewolf a month now." Carter nodded, studying his CO as Hogan studied him. _ He's thinning like Newkirk did. And his appetite is tremendous. And he does just what Newkirk does-he watches._ "Why do you watch?" he blurted.

Carter grinned. "Heck, Colonel that's easy. We're reading you."

"What?"

Carter shrugged. "Reading you. To see if you're mad or thinking hard or, heck, anything."

"You can smell that?"

"No. We can see-we're reading what your body is saying." Carter struggled. "We're seeing how you move."

Hogan rubbed his head. "All right," he said. "You and Newkirk do that to each other?"

"Of course. It's easiest with him."

"Is it hard?"

Carter blinked. ""Is what hard?"

"Being a werewolf."

"It's what I am now, sir. It's kind of hard in some ways-the wolf is easier and harder. I like to run now-I can feel the earth under my paws and I can smell rabbit and deer and everything."

Hogan grinned. "Thanks Carter. Come on, let's get topside."

As another week hurried by, Hogan noticed more about his new werewolf. Carter had become more graceful, more deft. One night after returning from blowing up the bridge, it was Carter adeptly dodging branches and trees. Newkirk dropped back, peeled off for several minutes and then came swiftly back. In the tunnel, Hogan turned quickly to him. "What are you doing?" Hogan asked.

"Saw something in the woods," Newkirk said. "Good thing I went over." He grinned. "I found Tiger."

"Is she all right?" LeBeau asked.

"Fine. Had this for you, gov." He handed Hogan a large envelope.

"Hope you didn't give her a heart attack," Kinch said.

"She didn't see me as a wolf," Newkirk said, rolling his eyes. "I haven't turned on a mission for a while now. I just found 'er." From the corner of his eye, Hogan watched Newkirk move near Carter. Hogan opened the envelope.

"Damn," Hogan swore.

"What is it, mon Colonel?"

"Reports," Hogan said. "And photos. From those captured resistance groups." He frowned. "The one that nearly escaped was torn apart by dogs."

"Filthy pigs," LeBeau snarled.

"That's an ugly death," Kinch said. Hogan nodded.

"Why did you get them?" Carter asked.

"Three units gone in such a short time is worrying. I want to know who's doing it." LeBeau muttered something and Carter's eyes widened. Newkirk guffawed. "Later," Hogan said. "Get some sleep."

"Colonel?" Newkirk softly asked as the men headed up. Hogan looked over at Newkirk's concerned face.

"Nothing, Newkirk. I'm sure I'm wrong."

"'Bout what?"

"Never mind."

Newkirk's eyes darkened. "Gov..."

"Enough, Newkirk."

Newkirk frowned, averting his eyes but Hogan saw the flash of hurt. Newkirk left silently. Hogan went topside and his quarters, feeling oddly guilty.

Newkirk hopped to his bunk. Carter reached up and Newkirk clasped his hand for a moment. Then he tried to sleep.

The next morning, Carter and LeBeau raked the compound. "Carter, are you all right?" LeBeau asked softly.

"I'm OK," Carter replied. "Darn. Here comes Simmons and Trenton."

"Imbeciles," LeBeau said quietly.

The two burly Americans sauntered over and Carter stiffened. LeBeau jerked as Carter stepped in front of him. "Carter. Didn't recognize you without Newkirk," Simmons sneered.

"Where is your little buddy, Carter? Giving up the English for French?" Trenton's lips curled into a mocking smile.

"Tell me, Carter, just what does Spotted Dick taste like?"


	14. Chapter 14

Carter flung a hand back, holding LeBeau back. He then shifted weight and twisted, sweeping out a foot and hooking it around Simmons' ankle. With an inhumanly fast turn, he pulled and brought Simmons to his knees. He stared at Trenton who bounded towards him eagerly. LeBeau's yell drew attention but he focused on his opponents. He sidestepped, grabbed Trenton by the arm and threw him aside a good six feet. Simmons lunged up, eyes wide, and Carter slammed a foot back into Simmons' side.

LeBeau's mouth opened soundlessly. Carter kept his gaze on the two downed men, staring at them in an eerily cold manner. Trenton slowly got to his feet while Simmons retched, clenching his side. Newkirk and Kinch appeared through the crowd, Newkirk shoving Trenton hard. "You all right?" Newkirk asked, gazing at Carter then LeBeau. LeBeau nodded and Kinch looked at the gathering prisoners.

"Go on," Kinch ordered. "Fight's over. Come on, guys." As the men dispersed slowly, Kinch glanced at Carter, an odd look of awe in his eyes. "How did you..."

"That is what I want to know," LeBeau said.

Carter glanced at Newkirk then at his friends. "We're stronger than humans," he muttered. "And quicker." Newkirk nodded. "The Colonel didn't see it, did he?"

"I think he's with Klink," Kinch said. "So what did they do-or say?"

Carter blushed and LeBeau rolled his eyes. When LeBeau repeated what Simmons and Trenton had said, Newkirk's eyes narrowed. "Don't go crazy," Kinch said. "They're idiots, Newkirk. Wow, Carter, I'm impressed."

"Shucks, Kinch, I just wanted them to leave LeBeau and me alone."

"Oh, hell," Newkirk blurted, looking over Carter's shoulder. "Here comes the Colonel."

Colonel Hogan looked at his _very_ angelic looking command crew. "All right," he said. "In my quarters. All of you."

Hogan listened patiently as each person spoke. He kept his gaze on Carter and Newkirk, watching Newkirk's nostrils twitch and Carter's blue eyes widen. "All right," Hogan sighed. "Carter, don't do this again. I'll deal with Trenton and Simmons."

"Sir, Newkirk and I aren't..."

"I know," Hogan said. "Kinch, I need you to run a phone line from Klink's. Now who is the best Burkhalter imitator?"

"Kinch," LeBeau and Newkirk chorused.

"Come on," Hogan said.

Hogan and Kinch left and Newkirk grabbed Carter. "Come on, Carter," Newkirk said. "Let's walk."

Outside the two men walked towards the kennels. "Nice moves," Newkirk said. "You did the right thing."

"I can't believe they said that considering," Carter blurted.

"Considering-oh, well, they don't think we know." Newkirk shrugged.

"You never mentioned this part of it," Carter said.

"No, Carter, I didn't," Newkirk snapped. "I didn't mention it. I didn't say Trenton and Simmons screw now and then. I don't tell that Anders and Bronson of Barracks Five are shagging every other day or that Mills whacks off when 'e thinks he's the only one awake and that several of the gov's and LeBeau's colognes are bleedin' nasty and that the bloody violin of Klink's sets my teeth on edge. I don't tell them that being locked away runs my nerves ragged and that they haven't the slightest idea how the pack is and how ruddy vital they are. "

Carter laid an arm over Newkirk's shoulders, pulled the older man into his embrace. He felt Newkirk's heart thundering and he hugged him tightly. Newkirk leaned against him for a few minutes then sighed. "Thanks Andrew."

"Anytime." He brushed his nose over Newkirk's neck, breathed in his scent, and then let Newkirk go.

In the tunnel, Kinch hung up the phone and looked at his CO. "So what are these reports?" he asked. "Why are you so curious?"

"Just a stray thought, Kinch."

"Colonel, you had me called the SS and demand copies of the reports for those units. Something is going on."

"It's just-three units, Kinch. I'm curious."

Kinch cocked an eyebrow. "You're thinking that someone is _hunting _those resistance units," he said. Hogan nodded. "And when the report says dogs you're thinking wolves."

Hogan sighed. "You're a little too sharp, Kinch. Don't say anything until we get the reports."

"Understood. Maybe Elsa could help?"

"I can't bring Gregori or any of his pack here. Newkirk would go mad. And they don't know of the operation, so it'd be a little hard to explain how I ended up on their doorstep."

"You could always find a job for Newkirk, get him in the cooler or out of the barracks."

"Maybe," Hogan mused.

The reports arrived for General Burkhalter two days later. Newkirk nicked the envelope while Hogan flirted with Hilda. In Hogan's quarters, his men clustered around him as he opened the envelope. Hogan's jaw clenched.

"SS Major Hans Hanover. Damn it," Hogan said.

"Who?" Carter asked.

"The SS werewolves," Newkirk said. "They're the hunters." He rubbed his head. "I wondered why they 'adn't been back."

"They are picking off the Underground in France," Kinch said dully.

"A werewolf assassin team," Hogan said. "I knew this would happen. Gregori said they were good. They're ideal for that work."

Newkirk and Carter looked away. "Sorry," Carter muttered.

"You're not doing it," Hogan sharply said. "They are. It's just they have one hell of an advantage."

"And France suffers," LeBeau said bitterly. "We can not let them keep doing this, mon Colonel!"

"And what do we do, LeBeau?" Hogan crossed his arms. "They're in France."

"But..." LeBeau looked at his Colonel and sighed. "I understand."

"We will do something, LeBeau," Hogan promised. All the men turned as Schultz's voice was heard yelling Hogan's name. "Duty calls," Hogan said. "You guys stay out of trouble." He left his quarters.

Kinch looked at Carter. "How about a game of baseball?"

"Sure."

LeBeau grabbed Newkirk as the Englishman started to leave. "Talk to me, Pierre," he said. Newkirk breathed in and nodded. LeBeau poured two mugs of coffee and Newkirk nodded his thanks. LeBeau looked up at his friend. "I want you to change me."


	15. Chapter 15

Newkirk gave a long sigh. "Louis, I understand you're upset," he said gently. "I am, too. But really, being a werewolf isn't what you want."

"Yes, I do. I know what I'm asking."

"No, mate, you don't. Look, you're upset, riled up, and think hey, if I'm a werewolf, I can show the Krauts. Perfectly understandable but you 'ardly want to change your entire life because you're a little upset, do you?" Newkirk patted LeBeau's shoulder. "We'll get them, don't worry."

LeBeau threw off Newkirk's hand. "Do not patronize me! I know what I want!"

Newkirk's eyes flashed. "No! Don't be daft! This isn't some bleedin' game!"

"You changed Carter."

"To save 'is life! That's it!"

"Why am I not as important?"

You aren't dying!"

"France is dying. And if France dies, I die!"

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "You don't look like a bloody dryad," he said. The baffled look made him blow through his nose. "Dryad? One of the fey? Cut down 'er oak tree and she dies? Never mind. The answer is no."

"So if Carter is hurt, you will help him but not me?"

"What are you, a bloody girl? I don't like him more than you-I saved him. I am not changing you."

"Why not?"

"Because you have no idea what being a wolf is like! And what about the fever?"

"If you can survive and Carter can, I surely can," LeBeau scoffed. Newkirk rubbed his head. "Pierre, I can handle anything."

"Really? Wolves kill, mate. We hunt and bite. What are you going to be, bloody vegetarian?"

LeBeau glared at him. "I can kill and bite if I have to." He sighed. "Wouldn't you like another wolf to run with?"

Newkirk looked hurriedly away, shocked. Yet LeBeau had caught a longing flashing through his eyes. Then Newkirk shook his head, as if putting aside an impossible dream. "You're asking for things you don't know about." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"So tell us," came a deep voice. Newkirk whirled. Kinch and Carter stood behind him. Newkirk's gaze went to Carter and his lips curled.

"He wants to change too," Carter said eagerly, ignoring Newkirk's very annoyed look and scent.

"You? Kinch, damn it, _you_ are supposed to be sane! Why don't I change the gov'nor too and we'll 'ave five werewolves? Think Carter and I eat a lot? None of you have any idea what being a werewolf is like!"

"So tell us," Hogan said as he entered with a cup of coffee. "I have to admit, werewolf saboteurs appeal to me."

Newkirk literally ground his teeth. "Newkirk, we could do it!" Carter said. "Come on, five of us could beat any Kraut. And when Hans returns, we could fight his pack easy. Heck, it'd be great!"

Newkirk's eyes widened. "Andrew! You are just realizing what we're like. All of us?" He shook his head. "Look at me, mates. Are you willing to give up all your futures for this? Because that is what you'll be doing. No more flying, gov. No more Detroit or Paris or France. No more of ANY of that."

"Why not?" Kinch asked.

"Because we're werewolves. And that's forever!" Newkirk glared at his friends. "I'm taking a walk." He shoved past Kinch and left the barracks.

Hogan glanced at Carter. "Is he telling the truth?'

Carter nodded. "Kinda. Yes, I guess. We're-connected. I can't imagine a life without Newkirk. I don't mean that in any funny way but we're pack. Family."

"Forever?" LeBeau asked.

"Yes." Carter looked at the floor. "I know more about Newkirk than I ever wanted to but that's okay. Heck, I'd love to turn you guys but you have to know what it means."

"You could turn us," LeBeau said. "You have the virus!"

"Without Newkirk?" Carter looked nervously at the door. "I don't know, LeBeau. Newkirk has been a werewolf longer than me. And he'd have a fit! I couldn't...I mean, he turned me and..." Carter floundered.

"You know Hans and his pack are returning," Kinch reminded.

"They will," Hogan agreed. "And only werewolves can help. Rules. Humans are not allowed."

Carter paled. "Just me and Newkirk against Hans and his group?" he asked.

"Just you and Newkirk? Of course not." Hogan sipped his coffee, noting the relief filling Carter's face. "You know Newkirk wouldn't let you go."

"What? He can't face Hans and his group alone! They'll kill him!"

Hogan nodded. "I know that. You know that. He knows that."

Carter's face hardened. "You're right. I'll talk to him."

Hogan hid a smile as Carter left his quarters. Kinch shook his head while LeBeau looked inquiringly at Hogan. "Relax. Let Carter talk to him," Hogan said. "Kinch, LeBeau, I certainly can't order either of you to do this."

"Colonel, gee, we know," Kinch said. His words were respectful but his tone carried the image of him rolling his eyes. LeBeau grinned while Hogan merely sighed.

"And nothing would change. This team stays this team, werewolf or not."

"You're going to do it," LeBeau said.

Hogan shrugged. Kinch pointed out Hogan's window. Carter had grabbed Newkirk by the arm, dragged him to a corner. Arms and hands gestured angrily. "You think he'll convince Newkirk?" LeBeau asked.

"I think so." Hogan refilled his coffee mug, wincing at the bitter flavor. As the coffee level went down, the acorn flour went up.

"Sorry, mon Colonel."

"It's all right. Are they still arguing?"

"Oui. You must have made Carter very angry."

"Just angry enough."

Newkirk stormed off, shoulders rigid. Carter watched him leave then headed back towards the barracks. "Damn," Hogan muttered.

"Don't worry, Colonel. Newkirk will come around. If not, Carter could do it," LeBeau said.

" I thought of that, too. I would prefer Newkirk simply because he's been a werewolf longer."

"Maybe he's right," Kinch said. "It's a risk."

"He's coming back," LeBeau exclaimed.

Newkirk knocked-a surprise due to his obvious temper. "Come." Hogan said.

Newkirk shoved Carter in and stepped in behind him, closing the door. "Do you have any idea what you're asking?"

"We're not stupid, Newkirk," Hogan said.

"I'm starting to wonder. This is bleeding madness!" Newkirk began pacing. "And using Carter here? He hasn't the faintest idea 'ow to change anyone! I'm not letting that happen."

"That's up to Carter," Kinch calmy said. "He does outrank you."

"Not as a werewolf, he bloody doesn't," Newkirk shot back. "Look Louie can't even handle the sight of blood! Kinch, you hate raw meat. And gov,-" Newkirk shook his head.

"What about me?" Hogan asked.

"Gov, you don't want to tell people anything. You're the most private individual I ruddy met!"

"So?"

"Wolves aren't private, mate! Packs share pretty much everything. Think of it this way. You have a fling with Hilda, we're all bleeding going to know. Louie, you run off to Marya, we'll know."

"We already do," Carter muttered. Kinch laughed while LeBeau scowled and Hogan smiled. Newkirk glared.

"One of us goes somewhere, the others fret and pace. And all of you want to be one?"

"I know what I'm doing," Hogan said.

"So do I," LeBeau said.

"No you don't! You're ruddy asking _me_ to put your life in danger, all of you! If anyone dies, it'll be my fault!"


	16. Chapter 16

Hogan inhaled. _That makes sense. I should have known. _"Leave us, guys," he said. Kinch nodded.

"I'll find some fresh coffee," LeBeau said.

"I can get some," Carter said. "I know where the coffee is hidden by the guards."

The men left, leaving Hogan with Newkirk. "It's a risk," Hogan said. "One or all of us could die. But we could die whether you turn us or not."

"I know. Colonel, it's not just the risks. It's being what we are. Carter's not human anymore because of me. And you don't know what it's like. Do you want to give up your life for this?"

"I want to win this war."

"When this war ends, gov, you'd still be a werewolf. And still 'ave us." Newkirk gazed steadily at his CO.

"You don't want the responsibility of us dying on you."

"No, I don't like the idea of killing me mates." Newkirk sat on the table.

"I understand more than you know. It's a horrible burden knowing you could be sending someone to their death even if they volunteer," Hogan said neutrally.

Newkirk looked up at him in surprise. "Sir, we know what we're doing."

"And so do we." Hogan squeezed Newkirk's shoulder. "Just think about it."

"Gov, if Hans comes back, the unit will go on without me. It can't go on without you!"

"We need you as well. I think the benefits are worth it," Hogan said. Newkirk looked at him as if he was going to say more but then stared at the tabletop.

"It's not just that," he murmured.

"What?"

Newkirk lifted his head. " 'ere comes our fearless Kommandant," he said. Hogan heard the door to the barracks open and opened his door as Klink headed their way. _Damn it, Klink, you couldn't have waited? I almost had him talking._

"Hogan, I need your men to clean the camp. We have visitors coming in a week."

"Really? I'll have to send my uniform out for cleaning. Who's coming, Kommandant?"

Klink's face tightened. "General Burkhalter and his sister," he muttered.

Hogan's eyes gleamed and he smiled. "You lucky dog! She's a lot of woman, sir."

Klink glared. "Just have LeBeau and Newkirk ready to serve dinner. The Gerneral will be here in a week. And have your men clean the camp. It looks like a-a-"

"Prison camp?" Newkirk asked.

"Yes, exactly," Klink said. Then he glared at Newkirk and the Englishman grinned. Hogan chuckled softly.

"My men can't be expected to work without extra rations, Kommandant," Hogan said.

'"Fine, fine. And have some of your men clean my office."

"Of course." Hogan grinned wider as the Kommandant stalked off and Newkirk laughed. Kinch, LeBeau and Carter all stood aside as Klink passed them. Carter came over, touched Newkirk's shoulder, and Newkirk laid his hand over his. He looked at his friends' faces.

"This is no game," he said in a low tone. "This means all of us are stuck with each other."

"And can save many lives," LeBeau said.

Newkirk snorted. "That's all hypothetical. This is real, Louie. It's no fairy tale." He paused, looked at Carter, who still squeezed his shoulder. "Or maybe it is and I'm just the big bad wolf."

Kinch suddenly chuckled. "Huffing and puffing," he said. "I just got an image of Schultz as a werewolf."

Newkirk looked appalled. "Werewhale, maybe," Hogan said.

"I wonder if you could be something other than a werewolf," Carter mused. "I'd have been a great wereelk. Or maybe a bear."

"We're wolves," Newkirk said. "And I'm not turning Schultzie. Not even for King and Country." He mock shuddered.

"So when do we do this?" LeBeau asked.

"I'll start with you, Louie." Newkirk touched LeBeau's shoulder.

"It should be me," Hogan protested.

Newkirk gave Hogan a pleading look. "I want to do you last, gov. LeBeau, Kinch, then you." He flushed. "And we'll need your quarters. Or the infirmary."

"Not a problem."

"Let me go for a walk. Louie, you better be ready for a lot of pain."

"I am not worried," LeBeau said.

Newkirk sighed and walked off, Carter following him.

"I can help," Carter said softly.

"You need to watch the others while I'm changing Louie. You need to guard them, take care of them, Andrew."

Carter nervously licked his lips. "OK. But, heck, Newkirk, it'll be fine."

"Listen to me," Newkirk snapped. "You watch over the pack if I can't or if I'm ever gone."

"I will. I mean, I know."

Newkirk nodded. "All right."

"Maybe we can run tonight."

Newkirk sighed. "I wish."

"How are we gonna explain this? To the other guys, I mean. Mills, Parks, Olson."

"We'll say LeBeau is sick."

Newkirk lifted his head as scents wafted by him. "Cabbage again," Carter muttered. His mouth tightened in disgust.

"Great."

LeBeau watched Newkirk and Carter return. That night, LeBeau and Newkirk snuck out to the infirmary. In the dark building, LeBeau let Nedwkirk lead, wondering again at the glow in his eyes. Newkirk lit a candle and then glanced at LeBeau. "Take off your shirt," he said. LeBeau stared at him then he took off his shirt. Newkirk pulled out a hypodermic needle and a syringe from the cabinet. He also took a towel from the cabinet. With a swift move, he blindfolded LeBeau.

"Hey!"

"You can't stand the sight of blood, mate, especially yours. I 'ardly want to carry you again."

"All right."

Clothes rustled and LeBeau felt breath steaming along his neck. "Don't do this, Louie." Newkirk's words ran across LeBeau's spine. "You don't want this. This is a lot more than you know."

"Stop it, Pierre. Just do it."

"Giving up France, mate?"

"If I have to in order to save her, then yes." LeBeau wished he could see. "Besides, we could live in France as _loup garous_. And I know I will see France again."

A sigh then a chuckle. "All right. If you're sure."

"I am sure." Fingers grasped his wrist and pain shot up LeBeau's arm. A scalpel had cut along his arm. "Ouch!"

"Be still!"

Warm liquid spilled down his arm, across his new wound, and LeBeau squawked as a cold nose snuffled him. "What are you doing?" Soft growl and then a wet, large tongue began licking his wound. Fur brushed his arm. "Why didn't you just inject me?"

Another growl and LeBeau felt a head butt his chest. He rubbed Newkirk's head and felt the ears twitch. For a minute, LeBeau pretended this was an enormous dog and wrapped his arms around the furry neck. Newkirk leaned into him. Then LeBeau sighed. "Now what?"

He heard claws clicking on the floor. "Now we wait," Newkirk said finally. LeBeau blinked as his blindfold was pulled off. Newkirk looked somewhat rumpled but normal. Then Newkirk began wrapping LeBeau's arm.

"Why didn't you inject me?" LeBeau asked, looking at him.

"I poured my blood into you. And we aren't the same blood type, so I didn't inject into your bloodstream. I didn't want to take that risk. You should fever up fairly quick." Newkirk's mouth tightened. "I'll be there the whole way."

"I am not weak, Newkirk. You could go inject Kinch."

"Are you daft? I am changing you one at a time. You'll understand once you turn."

"Thank you, Pierre."

"Don't," Newkirk harshly said. "This isn't a gift."

"If you could be human again, would you?"

Newkirk looked away. "No," he finally said. "And that's all I'll say." He took LeBeau's arm. "Come on."


	17. Chapter 17

LeBeau took pride in the fact that he felt no ill effects until late the next night. It was minor at first-slight chills and him wishing for another blanket. He didn't want to wake the barracks, so he lay in his bunk, shivering. A hand grabbed his and he turned his head to see a gleam of eyes. "I will wait until after roll call," he whispered to Newkirk. Newkirk frowned and looked around. "We can not go to the infirmary yet."

Newkirk looked over at his bunk and gave a fast nod. He settled at the table, watching LeBeau intently. LeBeau pointed at Newkirk's bunk and Newkirk shook his head. Carter soon joined him, LeBeau rolled his eyes and tried to sleep.

At roll call, he wearily stood, ignoring Schultz and Klink. "LeBeau?" Mills muttered.

"Flu," he said. He noted Hogan glancing over his shoulder at him. Carter reached out and grabbed his elbow. "I'm fine!"

"Report to the infirmary," Hogan said. "Newkirk, take him there."

"Yes, sir," Newkirk said. "Come on, LeBeau. You get to sleep away your flu."

Newkirk hurried LeBeau to the infirmary. There he covered LeBeau with a blanket and watched over him. He laid beside him in wolf form, keeping the chills away and listened to LeBeau's heartbeat and breathing. Carter, Kinch, and Hogan all took turns with LeBeau as well. They all constantly talked to him, also touching him per Newkirk's orders. Wilson checked on LeBeau briefly, not liking the suspicion in Newkirk's eyes.

"It's just the flu?' Wilson asked.

"Of course," Newkirk said. When Wilson left, Newkirk returned to wolf form, returned to snuggling next to LeBeau. LeBeau swore his blood had become fire. Cold water soaked towels eased some of the heat and pain. Newkirk alternated between wolf and human form. Hours slowly went by and Newkirk held LeBeau's hand or kept pressed against him. "Just follow my lead," Newkirk whispered. LeBeau opened his eyes, looked blearily at Newkirk. "Just feel, mate."

He let his robe fall and he shifted. Once again, he patiently shifted back and forth, allowing LeBeau to feel what could not be easily explained. To his great surprise, LeBeau caught on very quickly. It took only a few shifts and LeBeau stood there, a shaggy wolf as inky black as Newkirk. Newkirk whoofed in pleasure and rubbed his head against LeBeau's shoulder.

LeBeau lifted his forepaws curiously, sniffing them and then sniffing Newkirk's ears. Newkirk grabbed LeBeau's muzzle gently, shook it once and then hopped out the window. LeBeau stumbled once, then coordinated his four legs and sprang after him.

Newkirk led the way across the compound, slipping back and forth into the shadows. LeBeau followed him, head swiveling at all the sounds and smells. Safely through the wire, Newkirk trotted into the woods and then bolted, LeBeau behind him. Newkirk turned around and leaped onto LeBeau. They wrestled, teeth clicking and paws flying.

Hogan drank his coffee while Kinch checked the radio. "London said they were bombing a factory near Dusseldorf," Kinch said. "No word yet on if they got it."

"Let me know when they find out."

"Got it." Kinch looked over his shoulder. "Carter still keeping watch?"

"Um hmm." Hogan smiled. "I think he's guarding us."

Kinch grinned. "Hope LeBeau's all right," he said.

"Me too. I was going to check on him."

"No need," Carter cheerily said as he entered. "I heard them howling."

"Howling?" Kinch said. Hogan covered his face with a hand.

"Does Newkirk have a death wish?" he asked.

"He rarely howls, sir. I mean, we haven't howled at all. I think he was telling me LeBeau was all right, so I could tell you."

Surprise ran through Hogan. "Smarter than I thought," Kinch murmured. Carter gave Kinch a dirty look. "I just meant Newkirk can be impulsive, Carter."

"He's really good," Carter said.

"We know, Carter. He's just taking a risk."

"He's always careful."

Hogan nodded. He went topside, standing by his window. Soon he saw two black wolves darting towards the barracks, one dwarfing the other. He opened his window wider and Newkirk leaped in, followed by LeBeau. Newkirk walked over to Hogan, butted his head on Hogan's knee, and then slid under a blanket. He shifted.

"Werewolf number three," Newkirk said. He tossed a blanket over LeBeau. "Turn."

LeBeau looked at him and shifted, a bit slower than Newkirk. "Hello, Colonel."

"How are you, LeBeau?"

"Incredible! It is amazing! The whole world smells like flowers and trees and the moon glows!" LeBeau's hands spread as he joyfully explained his change. Newkirk silently left the room as LeBeau and Hogan talked, pulled on his nightshirt, and hopped onto his bunk. There he laid down, trembling from stress and terror.

Carter and Kinch came topside. Carter immediately went to Newkirk, pressed a hand onto Newkirk's shoulder. He leaned close, prevented himself from nuzzling Newkirk as he wanted to, and instead merely stroked his hair. Newkirk sighed and looked up. "I'm OK," he whispered.

Kinch came over, nudged Carter aside. "Ease up, Carter. People already talk about you two."

Newkirk gave a low, deep growl and Kinch blinked. "Not you," Newkirk said.

"What you said," Carter whispered.

LeBeau and Hogan stepped out and LeBeau hurried to his bunk. As he dressed, he lifted his head. "Schultz," he said.

Schultz burst in. "Wake up! R_aus, raus!_"

To Hogan's horror, he heard an actual _growl_ erupt amid the usual morning complaints. Newkirk immediately was by LeBeau, squeezing the Frenchman's arm and whispering in his ear. The men trickled out, Hogan glancing at LeBeau and Newkirk. LeBeau at least looked embarrassed. After roll call, Hogan turned to LeBeau. "Sorry," LeBeau said. "It will not happen again."

"I hope not," Hogan said.

"It won't," Newkirk said. "'E needs some control. I'll help."

Hogan nodded. Newkirk turned his shadowed eyes to Kinch. "Think you could be ready today?"

"Been ready. How about you?"

"I'm fine." Newkirk looked around. "'Onestly, I'm fine."

Hogan slowly nodded. "As long as both of you are sure.

Newkirk patted the infirmary table and Kinch sat on it. "So how does this work?" Kinch asked uneasily. The single candle shadowed more than it illuminated but Newkirk moved easily, as if he could see perfectly well.

"Rather simple. I inject me blood into you and you become a werewolf."

"So you're saying we can't be blood donors any more."

Newkirk looked at him, surprise in his eyes. "Never thought of that but yes." He tugged Kinch's shirt. "Off with that."

"All right."

He, like LeBeau, felt rather than saw Newkirk moving behind him. "Don't do this James." The words puffed against his neck. "This is forever. This is fangs and fur and never, ever being what you were before."

"I know what I'm doing, Peter."

"Then why? LeBeau I can see, some. The gov'nor, yes, because he's daft and would love the idea of it. But you-you're sane."

"Maybe I'm tired of being the sane one." Kinch felt Newkirk draw back.

"All right then."

Kinch craned his head around as Newkirk fiddled with a syringe. "What?"

"Wanting to be someone else-yeah, I understand that, mate. A lot more than you think."

Kinch shook his head. "You're not black, Newkirk. You couldn't understand. Not like you think you do."

"Don't be so sure." Newkirk gave him an odd look as he tied a strap around his arm. "Are you sure Elsa 'asn't got something to do with it?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I haven't thought about her at all."

Newkirk guffawed as he slid the needle into his vein. "Pull the other one, mate! I think about her and I don't even like 'er!"

"She's white, Peter."

"So? We're not in the States, mate. And she likes you."

Kinch frowned. "I know you and LeBeau don't get it," he said slowly, watching Newkirk fill two syringes with blood. "But it's different, Peter. My mother scrubbed the floor of women who thought nothing of calling black people niggers or nigras. She had to take in laundry to feed us a few times because my father didn't have a job. You don't know what it's like to come home and find your mother sleeping slumped over the table because she is so exhausted. When my father got a job at General Motors, she was so happy because my little sister and I could stay in school. When I left for the Army, she saw me off and all I could think was how tired she and my father looked. I bet you didn't think that about your folks when they saw you off."

Newkirk looked odd. He looked at his hands. "No, I can 'onestly say I didn't think that." He removed the strap and tied it around Kinch's upper arm. "Relax."

The injection was quick and Newkirk smiled. "Is that it?" Kinch asked.

"Not by a long shot."

Newkirk shook and his clothes dropped off. Suddenly he shifted and Kinch found himself face to face with the wolf. Steamy breath poured over his face. Instinctively he leaned back. The wolf followed, fangs gleaming. Swifter than sight, Newkirk lunged and Kinch yelped as teeth tore his skin. "What the-"

A wet tongue licked the bleeding wound. Kinch shivered and the tongue moved to his cheek for a moment then back to the wound. Awkwardly, Kinch rubbed the upright ears and Newkirk groaned in pleasure. "I won't tell you how weird this is," Kinch said, rubbing expertly. Newkirk pushed back against his fingers.

They stayed that way for a few moments. Then Newkirk shifted and poured the blood over the mild bite. "You should start fevering in a day or so." His eyes gleamed. "I'll be there the whole time."

"All right," Kinch agreed.

Kinch stood up and Newkirk gripped his arm, pressed close to him. Newkirk led them back across the compound. Hogan met them.

Like LeBeau, Kinch fevered the next night. Unlike LeBeau, he sweated far more, moaned in pain. Newkirk never left him, frantically hovering, so much Hogan literally pulled Newkirk away so he could eat a few bites. Carter talked to Kinch while LeBeau spooned broth patiently into his mouth.

Newkirk again found himself pressed against a sweating, pain wracked friend. He spent half the night shifting back and forth. The stench of sweat filled the room. Newkirk wrapped around Kinch, shifted and then gently placed his muzzle over Kinch's mouth and nose. He breathed and Kinch's eyes widened. Then Newkirk shifted to human and back to wolf. Kinch wrapped his fingers over the muzzle and Newkirk gripped his hand with his teeth. Then he shifted. Kinch felt Newkirk's teeth change as well as his tongue. Newkirk grinned and shifted again.

KInch reared up and his bones rotated. Hair popped and he found himself muzzle to muzzle with Newkirk. Newkirk lunged, grabbed his throat and tugged playfully, then bounded off the bed. They headed into the dark. Kinch found himself at Newkirk's flank, matching his shorter legged friend's twists and turns. Together they wrestled and played until light tinged the sky and Newkirk led a weary Kinch back to the Stalag.

They barely made roll call. Carter ground his teeth as Newkirk brushed off Hogan's inquires. "It's fine, mate."

"You look like hell."

Newkirk grinned. "You won't be thinking that tonight, gov."

"Start cleaning. Let's get the place done," Hogan said. "Newkirk, go get some sleep."

Newkirk hauled himself to his bunk. "Why does he get off?" Mills protested.

"Newkirk has a mission," Hogan said.

"But Colonel, that's not fair!" Parks complained.

"Enough," Hogan said.

"Sir!"

"Enough!" Hogan's tone brooked no argument. "Go!"

Newkirk wearily stepped down. "I can work, sir."

"Newkirk, get to bed. Olson, Parks, get to work. Now!"

Newkirk sighed and got into his bunk. He went to sleep swiftly.

Outside, in the early morning heat, Carter walked over to Hogan. "Thanks, Colonel. He need some sleep."

"I know, Carter. I asked a lot from him."

"You mean we did," LeBeau said. He rubbed his nose. "And I will have to ask his apology for my cologne. It is nasty."


	18. Chapter 18

Newkirk slept, curled in Carter's bunk. Mills rolled his eyes as he entered. "At least try to hide it, Newkirk," he muttered. He reached on and grabbed Newkirk's shoulder.

Newkirk woke and lunged. Mills found himself under Newkirk, an incredibly angry, strong Newkirk who wrapped an hand around his throat. "Get off!" Mills screamed. Shoving against Newkirk was like shoving against a wall. Newkirk's eyes gleamed but Newkirk let him go and stepped back.

"Bloody 'ell, don't wake me like that," he spat.

"You? Who threw who on the floor?" Mills scrambled up as Parks and Kinch hurried in. "You're crazy!" He rubbed his throat.

"What's going on? Kinch asked.

"Mills woke me up wrong," Newkirk groused. Kinch smelled his annoyance and bit back his own growl at Mills. _What the hell is that? _Newkirk yawned and poured coffee into his battered mug.

"Look, I'm sorry," Mills stammered. "Jesus, Newkirk. Don't fly off the handle like that."

"All right. And, just so you know, I'm not doing anything with Carter. He's a friend."

"Damn close friend," Parks muttered. Newkirk glared at him.

"Lay off," Kinch ordered. "Let's get the camp cleaned. Come on, Newkirk."

Newkirk nodded, gulped his coffee, and walked off with Kinch. Kinch found it unsettling how comfortable he felt as Newkirk walked beside him.

That night Newkirk slipped into Hogan's quarters silently. Hogan smiled at him. "My turn?" he asked. "I feel like I should be wearing white." He leaned back in his chair.

Newkirk grinned. He wedged a chair under the door handle. "It'll take about eighteen hours for the fever to hit." He breathed deep. "Gov, I'm going to tell you what I told all the others. Back out now." He stepped close to the Colonel. "This is a risk."

"I can do this, Newkirk."

"That's not the problem, gov." Hogan felt Newkirk's breath on his neck. "This is forever. This is everything. There won't be any ruddy America or England or France. Not for us. This is a binding. We've been brothers but this is far more. No more privacy, Rob."

Hogan jerked at the use of his first name and Newkirk studied him, . Hogan exhaled. "Do I strip?" he teased.

Newkirk snorted but his eyes brightened with amusement. "You'd smart off if they were dragging you to the firing squad, wouldn't you? Just take off your shirt." He stepped back with a smile. Hogan removed his shirt while Newkirk stripped and shifted to his wolf form. Hogan swallowed hard as Newkirk neared him with gleaming teeth. _ He's awfully big..._

Soft fur brushed the skin of his shoulder. Hogan awkwardly shifted as Newkirk leaned against him, breath hot. The wolf gazed at him patiently. Hogan looked into the wolf's intense, inhuman eyes and nodded, reaching out to run his fingers through the thick ruff. Tenderly, almost gently, fangs pressed into his skin then broke the flesh directly under his collarbone. Blood seeped down Hogan"s skin and a pink tongue lapped the blood away. Then Newkirk stepped back, dropped his head to his foreleg and bit. As blood streamed down his leg, he placed the bleeding limb on Hogan's shoulder so his blood spilled over and into Hogan's wound. Hogan twitched at the feeling of hot liquid pouring over his skin. Newkirk let the blood run for a few moments then began licking Hogan"s shoulder wound.

Hogan gently stroked the broad skull, rubbed the silky ears, and Newkirk nuzzled his arm. Then the wolf gazed at him, licked the wound, and nipped again as if unsatisified with something. Again he bit his foreleg and let the blood drip. "Newkirk?"

A growl answered him, an impatient, annoyed growl. The wolf licked the wounds clean then stared at him before jerking its head to the top bunk. "All right, all right," Hogan said. He climbed to his bunk and laid down. He heard a grunt as the wolf laid in his bottom bunk. "If it takes eighteen hours, you can get some sleep in your bed," Hogan said. A grumbling growl answered him. "Newkirk..." The wolf ignored him. Hogan sighed and pulled his blanket over his shoulders.

The next day went quickly. The night went easily as well until Hogan awoke briefly, shaking in the cold. To his surprise, his bunk dipped and delicious heat laid beside him. He buried his face in silky fur, wrapped his arms around the warmth, and fell back asleep. He woke again to dress, stumble out for roll call. The camp gleamed with odd colors and he swallowed hard. Newkirk pressed close, his arm touching his. "Easy there, gov."

"Schultz, report!"

"All present and accounted for!"

"Colonel Hogan, get your men busy with a final cleaning!"

Hogan blinked. "Kommandant?" he asked.

Klink stepped to Hogan, stared at him. "Colonel Hogan?"

"Whatever you say, Kommandant."

"Are you ill, Colonel?"

"I"ll be fine, sir."

Klink frowned. "Report to the infirmary, Hogan."

"It"s just a touch of flu."

"Now Hogan! Everyone else dismissed!

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir," he lazily said. He strolled towards the infirmary, Newkirk beside him. His other men surronded him, pressing tight. "Guys, I"m OK."

"Colonel?" Wilson hurried over. Hogan glanced at his medic. "You look like hell, sir."

"I 'ave him," Newkirk said.

"He"s ill," Wilson snapped. He opened the infirmary door and Newkirk eased Colonel Hogan onto the bunk. Wilson touched Hogan's neck. "He"s hot." He fumbled in his bag. "Has he been exposed to anything?" He looked at Newkirk and he stiffened. "Newkirk, you didn't-you son of a bitch!" He grabbed Newkirk's shirt. Growls broke out and Wilson looked at the men. "What did you do?"

"What we asked," Hogan rasped. "Let him go, Wilson."

"Why didn"t you say something to me?" Wilson demanded.

"Later," Newkirk snapped. "When he's all right."

"Newkirk..."

"Wilson, I'll be fine," Hogan said. "Just let me rest a minute and I"ll go back to my quarters. Guys, finish the cleaning."

"And you?" LeBeau asked.

"I"ll watch him," Wilson said.

""E"s mine," Newkirk said softly. "I"ll take care of the gov. I took are of the others, I can take care of him."

"Newkirk..." Wilson started.

_"Mine."_ And the word came out from grinding teeth. Wilson stepped back a step, then another and Hogan looked at Newkirk. To his bleary vision, Newkirk looked no different. Yet, everyone, even Kinch stepped back. Newkirk took his arm, guided him back to his quarters, stripped off his clothes, and settled him in his bunk. Hogan shivered and Newkirk shifted forms. Hogan fell asleep, covered in warm fur. As he drifted off, he felt Newkirk nuzzle him and lay his broad head on Hogan's shoulder.


	19. Chapter 19

Liquid fire poured through his veins, melting his bones. Every cell seemed to scream in pain. A cool nose touched him, licked his arm. Then a soft voice came, murmuring instructions and tender words. Hogan's hands clenched and touched bare skin then fur then skin again. Against his skin, flesh shifted, rolled, shifted again and suddenly, as fangs gently shook his shoulder, his body understood. His skin and bones dissolved, melded, and he opened his suddenly clear eyes.

Scents exploded around him. The dry, slightly musty scent of blankets, the soap and bleach aroma of his clothes, the sweat stench of his sheets and the living, warm odor of the wolf lying beside him. The wolf-Newkirk-leaped down from the bunk and waved his tail. Hogan dropped down beside Newkirk and Newkirk nuzzled his neck. Delight shot through Hogan's body and he leaned into the touch.

Newkirk gently pushed Hogan"s shoulder. He turned and Hogan pressed against him. Newkirk shoved open the window, sniffed, and bounced out. Hogan followed and they slunk along the barracks until they slipped through the fence and they ran. In the woods, Newkirk whoofed and bowed his frontquarters. Hogan jumped and the two wolves rolled in the grass. They wrestled and ran, darting among trees and leaping logs. Newkirk pounced, rolling Hogan underneath him and then racing off while Hogan gave chase.

In the camp, LeBeau paced the tunnels, worry gnawing his stomach. His instincts told him Newkirk was running tonight, much as he had with him. Carter joined him a little while later as did Kinch. "The Colonel turned," Kinch said, relief in his voice.

"How do you know?" Carter asked.

"Peeked into his quarters. Smelled him. Newkirk's with him."

"Good," Carter said. "Peter will take care of him."

"Mon Colonel can take care of himself." LeBeau began pacing again. "We should be with them. We are a team, are we not?"

"Newkirk did this for all of us," Kinch reminded. "We all ran with him by ourselves."

"Think the Colonel is a big wolf?" Carter asked.

"Bigger than Newkirk," Kinch said. "Since as a man he's taller than Peter."

Carter poured coffee while LeBeau paced and Kinch nibbled cookies. "What is taking so long?" LeBeau fussed.

"They're fine," Carter said. "Newkirk is good at what he's doing."

"He tried to talk me out of it," Kinch said as he dealt cards to Carter.

"Moi aussi," LeBeau said. "Pierre worries too much."

"What did you talk about?"

"I told him about my mother and father," Kinch said. "I tried to explain what it was like for them, as black people. I hope I got through to him."

LeBeau stared at him, his shock easily scented. "LeBeau?" Carter asked.

"You mentioned your parents?" he asked.

"Is that a problem?" Kinch asked puzzledly.

"Pierre has no parents. His mother died when he was 7, his father left before that."

"I never knew that!" Carter blurted.

"He does not speak of it. He only mentioned it to me once when we were in the cooler. That was before you, Carter, or even you, Kinch."

"Oh, no," Kinch muttered.

"So who raised him?"

"His _gran mere_, I think. She died when he was 13 or so." LeBeau sipped his coffee. "And that is what little I know. Oh, and he has two sisters, Mavis and Elizabeth."

"Damn," Kinch said. "I didn't know."

"He will not be upset with you, Kinch. He simply will not talk about it," LeBeau said.

"Roll call is soon," Carter said nervously.

As dawn and morning roll call neared, Kinch spotted a wraithlike pair sliding into camp. "They better hurry," LeBeau hissed as the two crept towards Barracks Two. Newkirk soared through Hogan's window, Hogan a breath behind. "Hurry!" LeBeau snapped at the two wolves. The larger looked at him with wide brown eyes and wagged his tail. Newkirk leaned against Hogan and shifted. Gently he touched Hogan's shoulder and looked into the wolf"s eyes.

"This way," he muttered. "It's just like rolling your shoulders." He shifted to wolf form then back again. Hogan followed suit, eyes rimmed with white.

"Time to dress, gov." Newkirk dressed swiftly. Hogan nodded and followed suit, nostrils twitching. "It takes a bit of getting used to. And whatever you do, don't growl at Klink today."

"Why would I?" Hogan asked. All the men looked at Newkirk. Newkirk grasped Hogan's shoulder.

"You'll see. Wolves follow instinct and you'll want to take down Klink because you're strong. Just swallow it and be calm." He looked at the others. "Just like all of us have to."

Hogan crinkled his brow but nodded. As the men fell out for roll call, he looked around, breathing in new scents. He felt Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, and Kinch take their places, swore he heard their hearts beat along with his. _Was Newkirk hearing this all the time? What else have I missed? _Newkirk grinned at him, eyes shiny, and Hogan heard Schultz's trod. "Raus, raus!"

Schultz shoved Carter's shoulder and the lanky sargant laughed, a bit forced. Flashes of annoyed scent rose from all the pack and Carter's grin bore a hint of fang. Newkirk pushed on Schultz as he passed and he jerked his head at Hogan. Hogan caught a whiff of cologne and turned as Klink stomped down his steps.

An urge to leap forward, to wrestle the Kommandant to the ground filled him, especially as Klink snapped at all the prisoners for their laziness. "I protest, Kommandant! My men have done all you asked!"

"The General will be here tomorrow, Colonel. I want the grounds raked over again and the laundry cleaned!"

"And my men are not your servants." Hogan felt a nudge from behind, sensed Newkirk. He inhaled, forced down his anger, modified his snarling tone. "They"ll finish it today."

"Very good," Klink said, mollified. "Dis-missed!"

As the Kommandant turned, bodies pressed against Hogan. Newkirk smiled ruefully. "Told you, mate. It's not easy."

"So I see. Wow." Hogan rubbed his temples. He lifted his head as Wilson neared. "I'm fine, Wilson."

"Are you all werewolves?" Wilson muttered.

"Quarters," Hogan said. They all headed for his quarters, Newkirk bringing up the rear. In the small room, Hogan turned to Wilson. "Newkirk changed us because we asked."

"Ruddy demanded," Newkirk muttered.

"But yes, he turned us all." Hogan sensed Carter shifting weight.

"In God's name, why?" Wilson glared at Newkirk. "You risked their lives!"

"I know what I did," Newkirk snapped. "They're fine, aren"t they?"

"Look, I understand turning Carter but the rest of you?"

"We can end the war sooner," Kinch said. "We"re faster, hear, see, and smell better. And we heal quicker."

"And the downside? Newkirk mentioned there are downsides but what are they?"

"Keeping mon Colonel from killing the Kommandant," LeBeau quipped. Carter nodded and Newkirk touched his arm.

"Carter?" Wilson asked.

"I'm fine." Carter smiled.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wilson asked Hogan.

"This is our business," Hogan said. "Wilson, we needed to do this."

"Sir, you do all realize this is forever? That this virus has no cure?"

"I know." Hogan ran his fingers over the wood of his bunk. "Wilson, this wasn't a whim. We, as werewolves, can do a lot of good."

Wilson looked at the Colonel and sighed. "What's done is done. Begging your pardon, sir, I think it was idiotic." He glanced at Newkirk who stared balefully back. "So what now?"

"We need to prep for the General. London is planning a few bombing raids." Hogan sat down. "And I have to get used to all that being a werewolf is."

"We all do," Kinch said.

"What about the other men? Shouldn't they know?" Wilson asked.

"No," Newkirk said. "That'd be a mistake."

"Just us," Hogan said. "And you, Wilson. No one else finds out."

Wilson reluctantly nodded. Hogan breathed deep, caught the scents of wood and coffee, the living scents of his packmates. His head spun at the profusions of scents and sounds. Newkirk had an odor reminscent of ginger and lemons while Carter smelled of cinnamon and sugar. LeBeau reminded him of vanilla and cloves while Kinch bore a tang of mint and rosemary. All were pleasing aromas and distinctive and Hogan couldn"t understand why he never smelled them before. Wilson smelled of antiseptic and worry, a scent much like burning leaves. "Gov'nor, back to us," Newkirk murmured. Hogan jerked back, looked into his men's concerned faces. Newkirk and Carter smelled amused.

"Sorry about that."

"You should rest." Newkirk grinned. "You still have to get used to four legs."

"Good idea," Kinch said. "Come on, guys. Let the Colonel get some sleep."

Newkirk was the last to leave, brushing his hand over Hogan"s shoulder. Hogan felt strangly bereft as his men left the room. He laid down but found it impossible to sleep. A knock and he sniffed the air. _Newkirk_, he breathed in. "Enter."

Newkirk came inside. "Figured you were still awake. Get some sleep, gov." He sat at the table.

"You're here," Hogan pointed out.

"Remember what I said about privacy? Trust me on this one."

Hogan huffed but closed his eyes.

Newkirk watched his Colonel sleep, glad Hogan finally rested. As pack leader, he was hyper aware of his packmates' feelings and well being and he knew he had to protect them. That was part of the job, one he'd never been quite aware of until he turned Carter. As a lone werewolf, he had no other werewolves to care for. His friends, of course, but he'd always avoided the responsibilty and burdens of leadership. Not because he couldn't do the job but relying on himself was something he preferred. _Too often others let you down. Bleedin' easier to count on yourself. And being responsible for other people, knowing you have to take care of them, that had never been an ambition either. Well, Peter, my lad, you better get ambitious. Four lives now depend on it. Not to mention your own._

He drew in a breath. At 14, he'd become the major support of his family when his Nan died. Mavis shop job didn't pay as much as his street magic and thievery and Elizabeth had still been in school. Yet as he got older and better at his jobs, Elizabeth and Mavis were actually the only ones he was close to, the only ones he dared count on until he joined Hogan. Even the circus folk had not learned everything about him. Now he had a new family. _One that is odde_r_ than my real one if that's bleedin' possible! But that's all right too._ _ It works. _He listened to Hogan breathe and closed his eyes. As he drowsed, he listened, continually aware of his packmates' presence.

Hogan woke to the smell of stew. He sensed a presence in his room, a familiar, comfortable one. "Afternoon, gov." Newkirk yawned and walked over to him. "Hungry?"

"Starving." Hogan stretched.

Newkirk opened the door and quickly stepped out, studying the room. Hogan stepped out as well, looking at all his men. "You ok, sir?" Carter asked.

"Fine," Hogan said. "Cooking extra, LeBeau?"

"I"m cooking for the barracks and to tempt Schultzie. Here, mon Colonel." LeBeau handed Hogan a bowl and then Newkirk. "The Kommandant will soon be calling for you, I think. He is worried about the General's sister."

"She may be really nice, you know," Carter said, giving a plate to Kinch.

"She"s a whacking nutjob," Newkirk muttered.

Hogan sat down and began forking stew into his mouth. "I can handle Burkhalter."

That night the wind blew and clouds scudded across the moon. The smell of late summer filled Hogan's nostrils. Hogan welcomed his second skin, luxuriating in the thick fur. Carter bounded across the clearing, wrestled with Kinch. Hogan cocked his head and watched until LeBeau tackled him into leaves. Only Newkirk stood apart, watching with bright eyes and wagging tail. Soon enough he whoofed and trotted off. The others followed. Hogan and Kinch jogged to Newkirk"s flanks. When Kinch tried to pass, Newkirk jerked his head and flashed his teeth. Kinch fell back and Newkirk trotted faster. He broke into a fast lope suddenly, ears twitching.

As the pack swept up a hill, Newkirk stopped at the crest and dropped to his belly. He flicked an ear, looked at the others until they laid down, then crept off. Hogan sat up but remained still as Newkirk darted from bush to tree, shadow silent. Hogan"s nostrils and ears quivered. The smell of cordite and fuel wafted upwards and all the wolves sat up. Yet everyone waited until Newkirk returned. Newkirk jerked his head and started off, Hogan at his tail.

Captain Winters swallowed hard as the bushes swayed around him. Sgt. Black held his pistol close and Corporal Jackson tried to wipe away blood from his eyes. A phantom moved and Winters caught a glimpse of glittering eyes. "Oh, shit," Black whispered.

"Easy," Winters ordered. "Just move away. Black, put down that gun! You"ll bring every Kraut from miles around!"

A crackle of brush and creatures stepped forward. Jackson inhaled. "They"re wolves," he muttered.

The wolves, all dark but one, appeared on all sides. One stepped forward, studied them with hungry greenish eyes. Then it turned and nudged the smallest wolf. The smallest wolf (_Still at least 100 pds! _Winters thought frantically), turned and ran off. The green eyed wolf then turned to the gold yellow wolf and pushed it as well. The golden wolf vanished and the remaining three wolves all stared at the crew.

"They're huge," Black whispered.

"Let's move," Winters dryly ordered. He grabbed Jackson's arm and started to move.

The green eyed wolf growled and raised a paw to stalk forward. Winters stopped dead and the wolf stepped back. They stood in a frozen tableau, three huge wolves and three men. "Captain, we have to shoot them," Black hissed.

"Then the Krauts come."

"They're probably trained shepherd mixes. Special Nazi dogs," Jackson whispered. One of the wolves snorted and lazily scratched its ear. The largest sat and watched with dark glinting eyes. A creak and the green eyed wolf flicked its ears, and then walked to the other wolves. They melted into the brush and Winters stared.

"Let"s go," he rasped.

They started off, Winters quietly looking around for the wolves as well as Germans. They"d only gone 100 yards when a black clad man stepped in front of them. "This way," he hissed. Black jerked his gun up. "Hurry!"

"Who are you?"

The short man rolled his eyes. "Allies," he said. "This way."

"Go," Winters said. Black looked at him then followed the stranger. Winters grabbed Jackson and pursued Black. He swallowed as three more black clad men appeared from the brush. A tall dark haired man stepped forward.

"I"m Colonel Hogan. Follow us. We"ll get you to safety. There"s a German patrol not far from us, so we have to hurry."

"You're American," Jackson breathed.

"Some of us," Hogan agreed.

Winters followed, feeling relief flood through him. The men led him and the others through the woods and into a tunnel. Winters blinked and looked around. "Where are we?"

"Under the toughest POW camp in Germany," Hogan said. He grinned and wiped greasepaint from his face. "Welcome."

"I"m Captain Winters. These are my men, Sgt. Black and Corporal Jackson. A POW camp?"

"No safer place. This is LeBeau, Carter, and Kinch. You get shot down tonight?"

"About six hours ago." Winters swallowed. "Two of my men didn't make it."

"There was nothing you could do, sir," Jackson said.

"I know. Thank you, Colonel, for bring us here."

"You"re welcome. We"ll get you some coffee and food."

"Thank you, sir."

Winters relaxed, sat at a table with Black while a different man introduced as Wilson stitched Jackson. LeBeau brought food and coffee. Kinch left to "radio London" and Hogan turned back to Winters. "We'll get you back home. It will just take a few days. Glad we found you."

"We were on a bombing run for a factory near Hammelburg. Our instruments started to act up and we got separated from our squadron. Then we got shot up and I had to lay the plane down." Winters sighed. "Glad to run into you. Did you see some very big dogs?"

"Wolves," Jackson corrected. Wilson shot an unreadable look to Hogan.

The Colonel sipped his coffee. "Wolves in these wood? I don't think they"re around. There are some large dog mixes. Shepherd crosses, I think. As long as they're not attached to a Kraut, they're OK."

Carter came to the Colonel. "Sir, should I go out and..."

"No."

"But, Colonel..." Carter said. He shifted weight.

"No. He'll be fine." Hogan grasped Carter"s shoulder. "Get some rest, Carter."

Carter bobbed his head and walked off. Winters eyed the Colonel. "You have another man out there?"

"Yes. He drew off the Kraut patrol. He'll be fine."

As the minutes ticked by, Hogan sensed his men getting more anxious. He, too, felt his stomach clench. Carter paced and LeBeau made up the bunks. "Carter, sit down," Hogan snapped. Carter nodded and sat down next to LeBeau. LeBeau murmured to him, squeezed his arm. Kinch entered the room.

"Contacted London, sir. Said the sub will be there three nights from now."

"All right. Thanks, Kinch."

Kinch nodded, stood by LeBeau and Carter. Carter turned his head and Hogan saw him straining to listen. Hogan ground his teeth. _ "You have no idea what you're in for, gov. This isn't like anything you've experienced. I'm telling you, you're a ruddy fool. But we'll be a pack of fools, I guess, because I'm the one ruddy turning you." _Hogan squeezed his coffee cup tight. His nostrils twitched, scented the anxiety of his packmates, the weariness and grief of their guests. He swallowed the last of his coffee. _Newkirk was right. This is far stronger than I thought. Where is he, damn it?_

It was nearly roll call when Hogan heard footsteps in the tunnel. Newkirk appeared, smelling of gunpowder and blood. Hogan breathed deep, stood back as Carter shoved Newkirk on the shoulder. "'Bout time," Carter said.

"Oui," LeBeau sniffed. "Lazy English." He tapped Newkirk's arm and Newkirk tiredly smiled. He patted LeBeau's arm and slapped Kinch's hand. He came to Hogan and Hogan exhaled slowly. Newkirk smiled wider.

"I'm all right, gov."

"Time for roll call," Hogan said. "You better hurry and change." He squeezed Newkirk"s shoulder. Newkirk reached up and touched his fingers. A reassured scent filled the room., all the crew relaxing.


	20. Chapter 20

Kinch loped through the dying grass, Carter at his flanks. The two werewolves were running late-unusual for them-but they'd run into pleasant distractions. Kinch stretched out, enjoying the feel of the coming fall. Carter increased his speed as well.

Both jerked to a skidding stop when Newkirk, in wolf form, appeared in front of them. Clearly furious, he stalked forward and Carter immediately dropped to his belly. Ignoring him and going past them, Newkirk headed for the trees. Kinch and Carter both turned their heads.

Newkirk headed directly for the trees, breaking into a run. He lunged, chasing Elsa and Heinrich (both in wolf form) out of hiding. The two visitors fled and Newkirk wheeled on his packmates. Still on the ground, Carter cringed at the controlled rage and again looked away. Kinch tilted his head then fell back under a onslaught of fangs. Newkirk twisted, body slammed Kinch to the ground, and stood over him, growling and stiff legged.

Kinch almost jerked to his feet but tendrils of terror snaked through his body. He knew he was strong. He knew he was quick. What he didn't know was just how far Newkirk would take this. And Carter's anxiety panting didn't help. Kinch looked into Newkirk's glowing eyes and Newkirk's fangs flashed , slicing a shallow furrow across his chest. Kinch looked away, backed up, and Newkirk turned to Carter. Carter shivered and Newkirk leaned close, growling. Yet he merely gently took Carter's muzzle in his mouth and shook it. Then he turned and trotted off towards camp. The two followed. Before they reached the tunnel, however, Newkirk turned and nuzzled Carter. Carter relaxed and nudged him back. Newkirk then looked at Kinch and head butted him. Kinch gave a sigh and rubbed back, twitched as Newkirk licked his muzzle as if to say all was well. He licked back and the three traveled the rest of the way in ease.

In the tunnels, Hogan and LeBeau hurried up to them. "What happened?" Hogan asked.

"Got the information," Carter cheerily said.

"And ran into Elsa and Heinrich," LeBeau said in surprise. "How is she?"

"She's fine," Kinch said, wincing as he washed his chest. "She was surprised to run across us. And we talked some with her and Heinrich."

"I 'ope you didn't tell her anything," Newkirk said darkly.

"She knows what we are."

"Great," Hogan said. "I really don't want them involved."

"Seconded," Newkirk muttered.

"They're good people," Kinch said.

"And they don't know what we do. This operation is supposed to be top secret." Hogan sipped his coffee, added sugar.

"They have to wonder why we are not escaping," LeBeau said.

Hogan glanced at Kinch. "Nasty cut," he said quietly. Kinch shrugged. "Elsa and Heinrich? What did they say?"

"We didn't talk a lot," Carter admitted. "Elsa can really run!"

"She shouldn't have been able to trail you," Newkirk snapped. "Just 'ow did that happen?"

"They're good," Carter said uncomfortably.

"Uh huh," Newkirk said. "And she's pretty." He gave Carter a disgusted look.

"That wasn't it, Newkirk! Honestly!" Carter gazed at Newkirk with big eyes.

"They are good," Kinch said.

"Enough," Hogan sighed. "I'll think of something."

Newkirk gave him a startled look. "I can take care of them, gov."

The other men looked and smelled nervous. Hogan and Newkirk each looked at the men then each other. "Roll call," Hogan said.

Newkirk nodded and he headed to the ladder. Hogan followed.

All during roll call, Hogan mused. He'd been a werewolf a little over a month and to his surprise, he honestly wasn't on four feet as much as he thought he might be. They all used all their senses but a contact meet didn't require wolf form. Yet, the pack had become incredibly tight knit and running together helped. Hogan understood now why Carter and Newkirk had clung to each other. While Hogan cared for all his men, the pack was his soul. He also understood about the touch now. As Newkirk had once said "Wolves are all about touch." The pack required touch. It also required discretion. So each person made a habit to use very casual touches and movements. Newkirk and LeBeau joked they were making the Americans Europeans. While the Americans understood the joke, none thought it was funny. Newkirk and LeBeau thought it was hilarous.

"Colonel?"

Hogan looked up. His men all gazed at him, smelling of concern. "I'm fine," he said. "Just thinking."

"Colonel," Carter said. "I was thinking..."

"Scary," LeBeau muttered. Kinch and Newkirk smiled while Carter glared at LeBeau.

"What is it, Carter?"

"Well, Heinrich has a wolf name, Wind. I was thinking we all should too. Heck, it'd be easier to ask for us."

Hogan raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Newkirk. "Not a bad idea," Newkirk said.

"Do you think it's necessary?" Kinch asked.

"It could be," Hogan said. "Good idea, Carter."

"Thanks, sir." Carter grinned and then looked at Newkirk who nodded slightly.

"Let's get some work done," Hogan said.

On laundry detail, LeBeau looked at Newkirk. "You are shrewd, _mon ami_."

"What?"

"That little blow up with Kinch was interesting and clever."

"What are you talking about?"

LeBeau sighed. "I know very well why you tackled Kinch. It is the same reason you bit Kinch and the Colonel when you turned them and not Carter or I."

"Carter was dying. I just bit them because I felt like it."

"Bah. You did it to prove a point."

"Speaking of points, get to it, Louie."

"You bit Kinch and the Colonel to prove you could. To let them know that you lead the pack and not they. They are your challengers. Carter does not care to lead and I do not either. You, however, you care. And you are showing them both quite clearly that you intend to remain top dog. Or wolf, as it goes."

"You're balmy. I let you and Andrew lead at different times."

"But not Kinch nor Colonel Hogan."

Newkirk eyeballed his friend. "You seem awful certain," he said.

"I am not stupid, Newkirk. If anyone challenged you for leadership, it would be the Colonel." LeBeau worriedly folded a sheet. "It scares me, that idea."

"What?"

"You and he fighting. It is odd, _n'est pas?_ He leads us yet you lead the wolves."

"It just is," Newkirk shrugged.

"Does it not worry you?"

"It crosses my mind. But if he challenges, he challenges. Nothing I can do until then."

LeBeau frowned. "And Carter's idea?"

"It's good. As long as people don't start thinking the wolf and the man are separate."

"So what will you pick?"

"Whisper." Newkirk's reply was quick. He shrugged at LeBeau's surprise. "It fits and is easy."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed.

"You?"

"I do not know."

That evening, the others tried out their names. Kinch became Goliath, Carter became Joker, ("Jolly Joker?" Newkirk teased and all the men laughed.), Hogan became Ghost, Newkirk was Whisper, and LeBeau called himself Flicker.

"Why Flicker?" Kinch asked.

"Why not?" LeBeau retorted.

"Just asking," Kinch said, holding up his hands as if surrendering. "At least it's easy."

"So what next?" Carter asked.

"There's a bridge near Heidenberg," Hogan mused.

"25 klicks away," Kinch said.

"I better make some more wolf backpacks," Newkirk said.

"Or Kinch better warm up his pitching arm," Hogan agreed.


	21. Chapter 21

LeBeau carefully added cinnamon to his strudel. At the radio, Kinch muttered over loose wires. "Are you all right?" LeBeau asked.

"Fine. Except for my chest."

"Still hurts?"

"Just stings. Whisper knows how to slice, I'll give him that."

LeBeau sighed. "Is she that pretty, Kinch?"

Kinch looked up. "This had nothing to do with Elsa."

LeBeau laughed. "Really? It has everything to do with her. Newkirk would not have been so furious had you two not been with her."

"It's not Newkirk's business."

LeBeau eyed his packmate. "Of course it is. He leads us." Kinch twitched. "I know it bothers you, James."

"It's just-weird."

"That I agree," LeBeau said. "Do you like her?"

"Does it matter? Newkirk hates her."

LeBeau sighed. "I can help, if you like."

"Thanks but no. I can talk to Newkirk by myself."

"Kinch, do you wish to be pack leader?"

Kinch stared at him, smelling of shock. "No. It's bad enough being in charge of the barracks sometimes. I admit it tempts me at time but no. I'll leave that to the Colonel."

"Then bargain with Newkirk." LeBeau looked at Kinch. "Tell him you promise not to challenge him and in return you want to be able to see Elsa."

"What?"

LeBeau smiled. "It is simple. Newkirk worries over you and the Colonel because you and he are the most likely challengers to his leadership. That is why he bit you and why he nipped your chest. So make a deal. You will not challenge him and you see Elsa."

"I won't challenge him anyway."

"He does not know that, _mon ami_."

Kinch thoughtfully studied the wiring of the radio. "You think he'd go for that?" he finally asked.

"Oui. He would like the chance to worry about one rather than two."

"Why would you help?"

"For l_'amour_? Of course I will help!"

Kinch laughed then stared at his hands. "Louis, I would rather have Ghost lead," he said suddenly.

LeBeau nodded. "I know."

Kinch looked at him. "You're not upset?"

"Because you have an opinion? Why would that upset me?"

"It's just-Whisper is good but-it's unsettling having two leaders." LeBeau nodded again. "What about you?"

"I understand your point."

"That doesn't say much."

LeBeau sighed. "I will not challenge Whisper. And Pierre has done a very good job. It is hard for me to say I would support someone else. I do not want to see Ghost challenge Whisper. It will not be an easy fight."

"Peter never wanted to lead," Kinch said. "I can't see why he'd care."

"Perhaps because he created us and the pack. There, too, I feel guilty. I believe it would hurt him very much to think his friends would betray him."

"It sure would!" Carter stormed into the alcove.

"Calm down," Kinch said. "No one is doing anything wrong."

"You're talking of betraying Newkirk!"

"We are talking about the pack and who leads," LeBeau said. "There is nothing wrong with that."

"Newkirk leads the wolves. Colonel Hogan leads the unit. What's wrong with that?"

"Because it's not easy," Kinch said. "Look at yourself, Carter. Sometimes, when you get an order, you look at Newkirk as if he needs to agree too. We run along as wolves, Whisper leads, then we change back to men and we have to automatically think Colonel Hogan is in charge. It would be easier if one was in charge. And heck, look at Newkirk and the Colonel. You don't think there's tension? Two leaders of the same group of people. What happens when they disagree?"

"Then they figure it out, Newkirk's not stupid."

"I didn't say he was."

"You just want Colonel Hogan to lead," Carter said angrily.

"I would prefer Ghost, so? It doesn't mean Whisper is bad."

"Well, I like Whisper in charge." Carter glared at Kinch. Both then looked at LeBeau. "Well?"

"I am not saying anything. I can see either as leader. Besides, we are forgetting a point. Why did we become werewolves?"

"He's right," Kinch said.

"I was turned to save my life. You guys changed for France and to help the war effort," Carter said.

"Oui. And so the pack must run smoothly."

"It is," Carter said.

"I know. But James is bringing up some serious points. Ultimately, the decision of pack leader is between Newkirk and Colonel Hogan."

"You mean a fight," Carter said.

"Oui. And _that _is what worries me."

"Newkirk is your best friend and you want him to fight?"

"_Non_! I do not want them to fight! And they will. Because Pierre will not simply hand over control and_ mon _Colonel will not be satisfied being ordered for long."

"I still don't get why Peter wants to lead," Kinch said.

Colonel Hogan walked silently beside Newkirk. The Englishman eyed him but said nothing, seemingly content to walk quietly around the camp. "Well?" Newkirk finally asked.

"Hmm?"

"You wanted to talk to me, gov."

Hogan nodded. "Kinch's chest," he said. "Did you do that?"

"Whisper did, yes, to Goliath."

"For God's sake, why?"

"He allowed Elsa and Heinrich to follow him. Don't tell me he didn't know."

"So did Carter."

"Joker apologized," Newkirk said. "Goliath didn't."

"He apologized?"

"Of course. I don't see why you're concerned, gov. It's all done with."

"You disciplined someone," Hogan snapped. "A little beyond your duties, _Corporal_."

"I disciplined a werewolf, sir. One of _my_ pack."

Hogan bit back his temper. "You hurt him."

"I corrected him. As a wolf does."

"Elsa followed him."

"He led her and Heinrich right to our door." Newkirk's eyes glittered. "I seem to recall when I brought Gretel here, I bloody got punished. And a lot more than a mere cut on the chest."

"Gretel was Gestapo!"

"And Elsa? 'Ow do we know she wouldn't turn us in?"

"It's not the same."

"Begging your pardon, sir, it bloody well is!"

"Elsa is a werewolf."

"So is Lisel but I think you'd be worried if someone brought 'er here and exposed us!"

"He didn't know she was following them."

"He did or he should have known. I found them immediately."

Hogan took a deep breath. He knew Gretel was a sore spot. Newkirk had accepted his punishment and worked his way back into the unit's trust but it obviously still stung. "You're right," he said slowly. "Kinch should have been disciplined. "

"He was."

"We have an issue here, Peter."

Newkirk looked at him calmly. "I lead the werewolves, gov. We'll follow you into hell and do whatever you order but the pack is my responsibility." Hogan twitched. "I know it bothers you, gov, but that's the way it is." Simple. Direct. Absolute.

"Damn. We're werewolves, Newkirk, not wolves and men. I mean, Whisper is not separate from you. We carry over in both forms."

"I know. But the wolves are mine." Hogan frowned. "I warned you, gov, that this wasn't going to be easy. This is part of what I was talking about."

"I know. I'm not blaming anyone."

"If it helps, I try to be fair," Newkirk said. "I was bleedin' angry but I'm over it. I was over it when Goliath backed down."

"God."

"Sorry, gov, just me. Although God is all right as well."

Hogan glanced at his Corporal, stared for a moment, and burst into laughter. Newkirk grinned and the scent from both men eased. "Getting a little delusional, aren't you?" Hogan asked as he calmed down. "All right, we'll figure it out." He dropped an arm over Newkirk's shoulder and they walked towards the barracks.


	22. Chapter 22

Whisper laid in the tall grass, watching the pack romp. He alone stayed aside, continually turning his head into the wind. The scents of coming fall seeped into his nose and the ground seemed to pulse through his footpads. All around them were the signs of fall and animals preparing for winter. He knew his own fur was thickening. Occasionally Whisper stood, paced and shifted. After about 20 minutes, he wheeled to find Ghost at his shoulder, pushing at him playfully. Whisper reached out and tugged Ghost's ear. Ghost head butted him and Whisper gave a soft woof.

The others turned and came over. Whisper trotted off, Flicker beside him. The pack moved swiftly, Flicker and Whisper alternating point between them. Ghost marveled over the silence of their travel. Panting and occasional claw clicks on stones but that was it.

As they neared the rendezvous spot, Whisper paused and looked at his pack. Joker sat and the others stilled as well. Whisper then crept forward, ears quivering. He came back quickly, jerked his head and the others joined him. In a small cave, the wolves shifted. Carter opened the pack which rested inside and passed out clothes and boots. Hogan glanced at his watch and his eyebrows rose. "Nice footwork, guys. Great time."

"Told you we were fast," Newkirk said.

"Would have been faster if we didn't zigzag all over," Kinch said. Newkirk eyed him as he wiped his hands.

"Wind changes and safety reasons," he said.

"Sorry," Kinch muttered. "I ran into a thorn patch." In example, he held up several prickers.

"You'll learn," Carter said.

"Carter, check those bombs," Hogan said. "I'm thrilled the Underground managed to get these packs here but it doesn't do us any good if they don't work."

After Carter checked the explosives, the men pulled on backpacks with supplies and headed for the bridge. Each man picked a pillar and scurried up. Hogan marveled again at how light the pack was since he'd been changed. Deftly he fastened the bomb and climbed down. Carter and Kinch were already finished. LeBeau leaped down and Newkirk finished last. He dropped beside his packmates and looked at Hogan. "We have to run back as human?"

"We do. We still need to stop at the Underground meeting. And I'd prefer to be clothed, thank you."

"Yeah, aren't there any clothes that could shift with us?' Carter asked.

"Not that I know of," Newkirk said.

"We could ask Gregori," Kinch suggested.

Newkirk's lips thinned. "Come on," he said, shifting his backpack. "Let's move."

Late that night, back at the barracks, Hogan stared out his window. He was pleased at the success of the mission. This is what he had wanted, to expand their radius and do more damage. He did worry about the tension he sometimes sensed in the pack. Hogan stretched and suddenly he jerked. The guard dogs erupted into barking as a light colored canine jogged down the road.

Nostrils twitched and Hogan leaned forward. The canine paused by the gate then fled and Hogan narrowed his eyes. That looked familiar...He stepped out his window.

He knew he didn't have a lot of time. He crept to the wire, lifted it, and slipped into the wood. There he spotted a gold wolf. "Wind?"

The wolf jerked his head and led the way to a battered truck. Gregori sat inside.

Gregori glared at the cocky American Colonel. "Fool!" he spat. Hogan's smile faded. "Why would you do this? Are you utterly mad?"

"It is not your business," Hogan snarled.

"Have you any idea what you've done? Do you know what your future is now?"

"I have a war to win," Hogan snapped.

"This is forever, Colonel. You do not get to wear this like a coat then shrug it off. You are a werewolf now."

"I know what I chose," Hogan quietly said.

"And Newkirk? Is he as mad as you?"

"Newkirk is fine."

Gregori sighed. "It is done. It is sheer lunancy but I am not one to try to stop the sun from rising."

"Why did you come here?"

"Elsa and Heinrich spoke to LeBeau and Kinch, remember? I do not know what you do but you are not ordinary POWs." He looked around worriedly.

"You mentioned other werewolf packs once." Hogan knew this meeting would be short. He could not take the chance of missing roll call or one of the others looking for him. He decided to jam in as many questions as he could.

Gregori nodded. "We are not common yet we are not rare. There are packs in different places. You will scent other werewolves."

"Any nearby?"

"Besides my family and myself? No. The nearest I know of is a German pack near Berlin. And Hans and his pack, whenever they return."

"You think they will?"

"Don't you?"

"I do but I may be wrong."

Gregori shook his head. "He will return. He and Lisel will never let Newkirk survive. He is their mistake and they make sure to fix their mistakes." Hogan nodded. He smelled the distress of the other werewolf increasing. "What's wrong?"

"Colonel Hogan, I find you an extraordinary man. I believe you will be an extraordinary werewolf. Yet, I am taking a large risk in talking to you."

"Why?" Hogan said.

"Because, Colonel, I should be talking to Newkirk, not you. It is he who leads your pack." Hogan jerked back in his seat. " As pack leader courtesy I should be talking to him. When he finds out-and he will-he will assume I am helping you in a c_oup d'etat_. As werewolves, pack leaders deal with pack leaders. To deal with a subordinate is considered poor manners at the least."

"A coup?" Hogan mentally twitched at being called a subordinate.

"Wolves fight for leadership, Colonel. We do as well." Gregori swallowed a gulp of coffee from a vacuum flask. "There is a hierarchy in a pack, just like military leadership. Unlike soldiers, however, wolves are far more easy going and forgiving and the leadership roles are more fluid. There is no shame for a wolf to lose his or her position. And wolves do not kill each other except in extreme circumstances. Now a person is different. If you defeat a man and wish to keep him in your pack, you must convince him he is needed and loved. A woman, too. Everyone must feel they are needed and loved." Hogan twitched again. Gregori smiled. "Yes, love, Colonel. A pack is bonded by emotion, love and caring. You are private, no?"

"I like to keep some things to myself," Hogan said.

"Those days are gone. Packs and wolves share."

"We''re still men."

"They cross over. That is why I worry about Newkirk. He is pack leader and you and he will sometime come into conflict. You lead the men, he leads the wolves."

"I know. Can that exist?"

Gregori nodded. "I have known of a few. It is not at all common but can occur." He grinned suddenly.

"What?" Hogan asked.

"Never mind. I do not think you can do that type of role, Colonel. It is not your nature. So you must make a decision. If you plan on taking over your pack, I will continue to talk to you. If not, I must stop. Newkirk does not like me to begin with and this will not help. Aiding in usurpation of a pack leader is highly despised. It happens, do no think it does not, but it is severely frowned upon and severely punished as well."

"So werewolves have laws?" Hogan joked.

"A few," Gregori chuckled. "Most of all, we do not share what we are with humans unless they are human pack." His smile faded slowly. "Colonel, are you taking control of this pack?"

"I''m not sure," Hogan said. "If I did, you'd aid us from time to time?"

"_Da_. As long as you protect me from Newkirk."

Hogan realized that Gregori was deadly serious. "Whatever happens, I will protect you."

Gregori nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you. Now, Colonel, you must go. I need to find Heinrich. And you should get back into camp."

"I need my men," Hogan said softly. "All aspects of them."

"Then you must win them. Do it quickly before you split your pack permanently. Also realize positions among your men may shift. Good luck. He bites hard."

Hogan rubbed his head. "He'll never forgive me." _My God, what am I thinking? I'll break him._

Gregpri looked at him steadily. "You must convince him. Remember, Colonel, wolves forgive easily and there is no shame in losing."


	23. Chapter 23

Robert Hogan was many things. Spy. Bomber pilot. Crew leader. Flirt and charmer. Werewolf. Now, however, he struggled with a problem he had no idea how to tackle. _If I do this, I could destroy him. He made us and I am thinking of taking it away. And who knows if I will actually win? I may be quick and strong but so is he. And he's mule headed. I doubt if he'll give in easily. Everyone thinks this has to happen but I don't want to fight my own man and packmate._

"Colonel?"

Hogan looked up at Kinch. "Yes?"

"You all right? You've been thinking here a long time."

"Fine, Kinch."

"Can I help?"

Hogan smiled. "I doubt it, Kinch." He tilted his head. "Do you actually go out for your weekend pass last night?"

Kinch actually blushed and Hogan smiled. "I met Elsa," Kinch admitted. Hogan's stomach lurched. "I just talked with her, sir. Nothing about us."

Hogan took a breath. "Kinch, does Newkirk know?" _I already know the answer is no because Newkirk was in a good mood today._ To his shock, Kinch nodded.

"He's not happy but we came to an agreement." He smiled.

"Which is?"

"I don't challenge him for leadership of the pack, he doesn't have a fit if I see Elsa." Kinch looked Hogan squarely in the eyes and Hogan saw the wolf. "That leaves you, sir."

"What?"

Kinch sighed. "You and I are the strongest challengers in the pack. I don't want to lead, sir. Frankly, I think you would be the best pack leader."

Hogan looked at Kinch. _God, no one is going to be happy unless Newkirk and I fight it out._ "I am in command, Kinch."

"Not of the wolves, sir."

"And you think I'd do better?"

"Yes," Kinch said. "It'd be a lot easier."

"I think Newkirk may disagree."

"He will."

"You haven't told him what you think, have you?"

"I'm not nuts."

"Have you talked this over with anyone in the pack?"

Kinch grinned. "Yes," he said. "LeBeau, Carter, and I talked. It's not an easy subject but we discussed."

Hogan sipped his coffee. "And?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"LeBeau is neutral, Carter is with Newkirk."

"I don't want us split on this," Hogan said. "I plan the missions. I give the orders."

"Colonel, no one wants a fight. I was thinking maybe if you and Newkirk talked, you could convince him to gracefully step aside. Peter never wanted to be a leader. Whisper is doing great but-he's not you, sir."

Hogan sighed. "Do you think Newkirk will give up his spot without a fight?"

"No. But it's worth a shot."

Carter discussed a similar subject with Newkirk. "Would you actually fight the Colonel?"

"It's my spot, Carter. If he challenges me, I 'ave to fight."

"You don't have to. You could step aside."

"You think I should?" Newkirk tried to hide his pain.

"I don't want you and the Colonel to fight."

"I don't want that either." Newkirk swept the kantine a little faster. "So why doesn't the Colonel simply not fight me?"

"He might not," Carter blurted.

Newkirk sighed. "He will," he predicted. "It's not in the gov'nor's nature to play second fiddle."

"Newkirk, it'll be ugly."

Newkirk nodded. "That's a given, mate."

"So why do it?"

"Who says I'll lose?"

"It's not about who wins or loses," Carter shouted. Newkirk backed up a step. "It's about who gets hurt!" Carter smelled of worry and rage and fear. Newkirk clasped his shoulder.

"Andrew, it'll be OK. If I win, I lead the pack and the gov follows. If he wins, i follow. It's all right."

Carter looked at him suspiciously. "You really think so?"

"Course. Trust me, mate. It'll be fine. We'll snap at other, one of us will get a quick nip, and the other will give. That's it."

Carter smiled. "I'm glad you said that. I feel better."

"Good. Now let's get this stinking place finished." Both men began sweeping again. _I hope you forgive me, Carter. Because the only man more hard headed than me is the Colonel._

A week later:

Ghost padded after Whisper, his head even with the lead wolf's flank. Ghost sighed, his breath ruffling Whisper's fur. Whisper flicked an ear at him. They were getting along as they usually did, no hint of discord between them.

The wind picked up and Whisper halted. He looked around, his nostrils twitching. Ghost stopped and sat. The scent of pine filled his lungs and the ground pulsed slowly under his paws. He watched Whisper. As reckless and wild as Whisper could be alone, he was terribly cautious with the others following. Ghost watched Whisper worriedly. Part of him deeply regretted what he planned to do. Whisper was a good leader, inordinately considerate and caring. Yet Ghost wanted and needed to lead. Hogan led the men. Ghost wanted the wolves.

Behind him he heard the restless shifting of the others. He glanced at them. Flicker, Goliath, and Joker all stared at him. _As if they know what I'm thinking..._

Whisper began moving. Ghost took one step and stopped, digging his feet into the ground. _I'm sorry, Peter. Here. Now. _ Goliath stopped as well, angling in front of Joker and Flicker. Joker and Flicker whined uneasily. Whisper turned his head. He growled low and Ghost stared at him, eye to eye. Whisper's ears slowly flattened. Ghost raised his hackles and snarled. _Let's get this over with. And God help me. I hope I can win._

Whisper smelt of rage and worry. They slammed together in a flurry of snarls and teeth. Ghost spun, bit into thick fur, dodged Whisper's teeth. As they danced and slashed, Ghost realized to his horror his larger size and greater weight lent little advantage. Whisper flitted and flashed in and out. His teeth raked down Ghost's shoulder and Ghost howled in rage. Claw and bite, turn and shove.

Joker pushed against Goliath. This was _not _the fight Newkirk had promised. This was uglier than anyone could have imagined. Goliath pushed him gently back, looking worriedly at the fighting pair. Ghost and Whisper twisted and weaved, whirlwinds of teeth and claws. A stink of blood filled the air and Flicker laid down, covering his eyes with a paw as Ghost tore a deep furrow down Whisper's left hip. Whisper snarled and sliced a line along Ghost's ribs. Goliath nervously exhaled. Breath steamed in the frost tinged air and blood sprayed the ground. Both wolves stepped back, circled each other. Whisper growled and lunged. Ghost stepped back and charged, dropping his shoulder slightly. As he barreled into Whisper's chest, daring Whisper's ever moving teeth, Ghost shoved with everything he had. Whisper's forelegs were slightly lifted off the ground.

Ghost twisted his neck and clamped his jaws where right foreleg met body. Blood splashed his muzzle and face, filled his mouth. Whisper _shrieked_ and thrashed, raking his teeth across Ghost's neck and shoulders. Ignoring the pain, Ghost ground his teeth harder. Whisper grew more frantic, tearing clumps of hair from Ghost's ruff and ripping along his shoulders. Whisper struggled wildly then suddenly yowled. Instinctively Ghost let go immediately. Whisper leaped away, holding his right foreleg up close to his body, stinking of terror and pain. Blood freely spotted both wolves and Ghost glared at Whisper. Slowly, Whisper dropped his head and looked away. Ghost shook himself, breathed deep. Whisper shied away. Ghost blew his nostrils clear of blood and shoved his head against Whisper. Whisper buckled, rolled onto his back. He whined and bared his throat as Ghost stood over him. Ghost nipped his neck, straddled the smaller wolf, and breathed down Whisper's throat. Whisper stared at him with white rimmed eyes. Ghost then grabbed Whisper's muzzle in his teeth and shook it hard. Then Ghost stepped away, back towards the pack. Whisper stood up, gasped several times, and then ran off, limping.

Ghost watched for a moment in bafflement. Joker yelped and scrambled around Goliath. Ghost wheeled, snapped at Joker who stopped short. Ghost glared at Joker who laid down reluctantly and then Ghost took off after his fleeing pack member. _A wolf accepts his loss easily, gracefully. There is no shame. A man takes the loss far differently. If you defeat a man and wish to keep him in your pack, you must convince him he is needed and loved._ Ghost raced after Whisper, stretching out beside him. Then Ghost slammed his side into Whisper's flank, sending the smaller wolf sprawling. Quickly Ghost pounced and held Whisper down. Whisper shook and Ghost licked a cut on Whisper's muzzle.

Newkirk had tried to warn him, tried to explain how much the pack needed and depended on each other. Hogan had intellectually known his privacy was lost the moment Newkirk turned him. Now he fully allowed the emotional animal to take over, let his emotional walls fall. The smaller wolf jerked as gently Ghost lapped a gaping wound on his shoulder. Whisper smelled of confusion. Carefully Ghost cleaned Whisper's wounds, tried to assure Whisper he was loved. Wolves show emotion easily and Ghost allowed his heart to show through his actions.

Whisper stared at him wonderingly then gingerly licked Ghost's ear. Ghost leaned into the tenderness, accepting Whisper's affection. This, too, was a new frontier. Ghost moved so he laid side by side with Whisper. Whisper pressed close and continued licking Ghost clean As Whisper licked, Ghost relaxed and Whisper moved closer until they were curled tightly together. Ghost closed his eyes and laid his head on Whisper's back. Finally he could rest and he gloried in the affection and attention he recieved. They rested together, each aching but content. Ghost mentally swore to protect his pack as Whisper laid his head over his back.

Goliath suddenly appeared, Joker and Flicker right behind him. From his reclining position with Whisper pressed against on his left side, Ghost stared at each one and they all dropped their gaze respectfully. Goliath paced forward and laid down on Ghost's right side. Joker nuzzled Whisper worriedly and Whisper grunted. Joker laid down beside Whisper and Flicker nudged Ghost.

Ghost breathed in the scent of his pack. Flesh to flesh, fur to fur, a huge mass of dark fur highlighted by the one golden wolf. The cool wind didn't even penetrate the wolves' thick fur. The pack rested briefly, Ghost's head on Whisper's back. Ghost then sighed and whoofed. His pack stood and Ghost trotted off. _So much for scouting tonight..._

A soul rending snarl made him whirl. Goliath and Whisper stood facing each other, lips lifted. Ghost trembled. _No, no!_i

Goliath rumbled deep in his chest. Whisper stepped forward, ears flat. He stood square on all four legs and glared into Goliath's eyes. Ghost licked his lips. Joker and Flicker looked at him beseechingly. Goliath flattened his ears, lunged, and Whisper jolted forward. _No, damn it! _But this wasn't his fight, not any more._ I'm an idiot-I should have known! Goliath will kill him. _Teeth sliced the air. Goliath stopped, snarled with a sound like ripping cloth, and paced to Ghost's right flank. Whisper stalked stiff legged to Ghost's left side and laid his head over Ghost's back. The two wolves glared at each other then, surprisingly, Goliath looked away. Ghost relaxed as Joker and Flicker rolled their eyes and fell in behind the others. Ghost looked at his pack, nudged each one, and trotted off.

Near the grove of trees where the pack kept their clothes, Ghost slowed to a walk and shifted to Hogan. He bit back a groan as he dressed. While werewolves healed fast, wounds inflicted by other werewolves meant human healing rate due to the virus. Hogan winced at the pull of scabs across his shoulders. The bruises, at least, were healing with their normal rapid rate. He glanced at his men. Newkirk moved slowly, dried blood coating his shoulder and right side. "You all right?" Hogan asked.

"Fine, gov." Newkirk looked at Hogan with tranquil eyes. Hogan smiled slightly and Newkirk returned it. Hogan squeezed his shoulder.

"You best hope Wilson does not see you or Pierre, mon Colonel," LeBeau commented.

"Do we look that bad?" Hogan asked.

"Just like a wolf rolled you over," Kinch chuckled. He looked at Newkirk and Newkirk smiled.

Hogan rolled his eyes, relieved. In the tunnel, Wilson cursed and headed immediately for Hogan. "What happened?"

"Just a scuffle. It's nothing."

"Anything that wounds and bruises like that is more than 'nothing'. What did you run into?" Wilson glanced over his shoulder at Baker who watched worriedly from the radio.

"Just some scratches," Hogan said. Wilson glared at Hogan then looked at the others. His gaze stopped at Newkirk. "Leave it, Wilson."

Wilson's lips tightened. "You need to clean the blood from your hair," he said. "Newkirk, too."

Hogan looked at Baker and his pack. "Get some sleep," he said. "You, too, Baker."

Topside, Carter watched his friend climb stiffly into his bunk. "You all right?" he asked softly. Although it was barely more than a breath, he knew Newkirk would hear. Newkirk hung his head over the bunk.

"Fine, mate. Gov has a mean bite, though. Even in wolf form."

Carter squirmed. He didn''t know how to ask but he needed to know. His best friend had just been deposed and how was he doing inside? Newkirk smelled content, resolved. "Are you sure?" He controlled his rage at the fight. It was over. Everyone was OK or would be.

Newkirk nodded. "Long as we're all together, I''m fine. 'Sides, Ghost will probably lead better anyway."

"You're a good leader," Carter whispered. He reached out to clasp Newkirk's arm. Newkirk's thick hair did have blood in it and Carter could smell it. "But you really need a shower."

"I'm all right, Carter," Newkirk murmured. He smiled. "Get some sleep."

"Yes," LeBeau murmured sleepily. "Sleep."

"Yeah," Kinch muttered. Almost as one, they looked to the door of Hogan's quarters. As if called, Hogan appeared in his doorway, scanning the room. He quietly walked forward, touched each pack member gently. Newkirk and Hogan exchanged looks and Hogan returned to his quarters, leaving his door open a scant few inches. In that way, the pack felt connected, each able to hear, sense, and scent every member of the pack. The men fell asleep quickly.

The next morning, Newkirk yawned and listened to the barracks wake. Carter scrambled to his feet and Newkirk listened. LeBeau OK, Kinch OK, the rest all right. He could hear Hogan moving from his quarters and then he slipped off his bunk.

Muscles screamed in pain. He grabbed the bunk. Carter grabbed his arm. "What is it?"

_I'm bloody sore and beat from the Colonel working me over. _"I'm stiff," he simply said.

"Newkirk?"

He looked at his CO and his new pack leader. A tiny part of him gleefully noted Hogan's slow, deliberate movements and stiffness. _At least I made him work for the leadership. _"I'm fine," Newkirk said. "Just stiff."

"I know the feeling," Hogan said ruefully.

"What happened?" Mills asked.

"We fell," Hogan said. He laid a hand on Newkirk's shoulder and Newkirk relaxed. While he did regret losing to Hogan, he didn't resent his Colonel. Besides, he, like Kinch, were now Hogan's seconds. And he could relax a little.

"Roll call!"

The men fell out. Newkirk tried to discreetly stretch every overstrained muscle. His shoulder throbbed. Ghost had ground his fangs deep. In front of him, Hogan limped a few strides.

In the showers, both men simply stood under the tepid water, ignoring the others. "I thought you fell," Mill said.

"Ran into a few dogs," Hogan said, not opening his eyes.

"Those marks look nasty."

Hogan opened his eyes and looked at himself. Scores of small cuts and deep slashes covered his torso and back. His legs and arms had fared better but his neck and shoulders throbbed. Newkirk bore similar marks, including deep puncture marks in his shoulder.

"Just give us a day or two," Hogan said.

"A day off would be nice," Newkirk muttered. He slowly soaped and cleaned off, ignoring the sluggish bleeding from reopened wounds.

"No days off at Stalag 13!" Kinch exclaimed in a good mimicry of Klink's voice. The men laughed and began dressing.

Hogan felt his command crew encircle him. He breathed in, trying to catch any scent of distress or anger. Newkirk seemed the most relaxed, merely watching him curiously. "I'm fine. everyone. You led the wolves and the men, gov."

"You sure you're ok?' Carter asked nervously as Hogan visibly relaxed.

"I'm sure. Blimey, mates, I'm all right."

"We are simply worried," LeBeau said. Kinch nodded. Newkirk rolled his eyes and Kinch lightly punched him, his own frame relaxing.

"I could use a massage," Newkirk said.

"Better find a girlfriend," Kinch said.

"I dunno, mate. You could probably do a good job."

"You keep hoping." Kinch grinned.

"Let's get to the chores," Hogan said. He rubbed his neck. "Damn, Newkirk, Whisper bites hard."

"So does Ghost,' Newkirk said.

"How are they?" Carter nervously asked. Both Newkirk and Hogan looked at him in bafflement.

"They're us," Hogan said.

"And they're fine," Newkirk added.

"Hogan!"

All the men turned as Klink stomped over to them. Hogan noted the amused looks on his men's faces. LeBeau smirked. "I wanted this why?" Hogan whispered and all his men chuckled. Hogan inhaled and looked at Klink. He could feel his men behind him, Newkirk flanking his left side. Despite being in Germany, Hogan felt oddly at home.


	24. Chapter 24

Hogan glanced quickly at his men. All the men smelled eager except Newkirk who smelt of smoldering anger. Mentally Hogan sighed. He knew Newkirk would find this hard-Newkirk didn't like Gregori or his pack and had made it abundantly clear that he thought this visit was a mistake. Yet Hogan needed information and so did the others. Newkirk had done amazingly as a lone werewolf and as pack leader but Hogan wanted more.

Carter brushed Newkirk's shoulder and Newkirk glared. Yet he shrugged at Hogan's questions. "Whatever you say, mate, it's your show now," he muttered.

Hogan sighed and walked over to Newkirk. He pulled Newkirk aside a few feet. Hogan had led for a month now and this was the only time, the only area, Newkirk had shown any resentment over losing the leadership fight. "I know what you're feeling. You've made it clear. We need to do this."

"I said all right." Hogan squeezed his shoulder, ran a hand over Newkirk's neck. The Englishman relaxed under his touch. "I'll be fine," Newkirk said quietly.

"OK."

The small house smelled of Gregori's pack and Stefan trotted around in wolf form. He walked over to Hogan, paced to the house and the door opened as if by magic. "Welcome, Colonel Hogan. Please come in," Elsa said as Stefan went past her. She smiled at the men. "All of you."

The men settled in the large front room, Newkirk and Kinch closest to Hogan. Gregori handed out glasses of wine and Heinrich offered hors d'ouves. "So, what do you want to know?" Gregori asked.

"Everything. We don't know much," Kinch said.

"Lone werewolves do not have much knowledge." Newkirk bristled. "I mean no offense, Newkirk. Lone werewolves have a difficult time. Werewolves usually have the one who Turned them to help them in all aspects of pack life."

"We do okay," Newkirk said.

"How long have you been a werewolf, Colonel?" Stefan asked as he entered the room in human form.

"Two, three months," Hogan replied. "Same as Kinch and LeBeau. Carter was turned about a month before us."

Eyebrows rose. "You turned all three in a month?" Elsa asked Newkirk.

"In a week," LeBeau replied. The eyebrows crept higher. Stefan stared at Newkirk.

"That was insane," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"They wanted it done quick." Newkirk shifted uncomfortably.

"And none died. That is very impressive, Mr. Newkirk." Heinrich stared at Newkirk.

"Why?' Hogan asked.

"Because turning is hard," Gregori said. "And to Turn three people in a week? That takes a lot out of both. It is always a strain, making a new werewolf. How did you get them through the fever?"

"I talked to them." Newkirk's reply was curt. "We're mates. I helped them through it."

The reaction was not what they expected. It was absolute confusion. All four of the pack went wide eyed and smelled of shock. "Who is your mate?" Stefan asked.

"All of us," Carter replied. Elsa looked at her father who stared.

"I think there is a mistake," he slowly said. "You are all-mates?"

Hogan, sipping his wine, didn't understand the shock. Then LeBeau paled.

"_Non, non! _ Mates mean friends! Pierre is English, they talk like that!"

"Like what?" Newkirk demanded.

"Mates!" LeBeau stated. "You mean friends."

"Course I did," Newkirk snapped. "That's what mates means."

Hogan jerked and coughed, shaking his head. "Not when you talk about animals," he said. "No. _None _of us are mates in that way."

Now it was Hogan's pack who were stunned. "We're guys!" Carter squeaked.

"All right," Gregori said. "This is the problem when we speak different languages. For a werewolf, a mate is their lover."

"Their one and only," Elsa said, smiling.

"Their wife," Carter said. "Got it."

"Beyond wife," Heinrich said. "A mate is forever."

Silence pooled the room. "Are you saying we date one woman forever?" Hogan asked. _Are you kidding?_

"You can date all you want," Stefan said. "But when you mate, that is forever."

Hogan's collar tightened. LeBeau looked unhappy, Kinch glum. "I will explain," Elsa sighed. "A mate. Another werewolf. Who you love and make love to. Once we bond, once we make love in wolf form, that person is your mate. And we bond for life. Only death will make a werewolf chose another mate. And.." She stopped.

Carter stared at the floor, beet red. Kinch stared at the wall, LeBeau watched her intently, Hogan shifted restlessly and Newkirk almost smirked. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Hogan said. "It's just information we didn't expect."

"We have to marry a werewolf?" Carter asked, still looking at the floor.

"Your mate will be a werewolf," Elsa continued, puzzled. "After all, sex will turn them into a werewolf."

"Elsa," Gregori said. "I think that is enough."

"'Old on, what does she mean?" Newkirk asked. "Sex will turn them into a werewolf? 'Ow?"

"The virus is in our blood. In our bodily fluids." Stefan cocked his head. "In the semen."

Hogan _never _dreamed this conversation would turn into this. He glanced at Carter who_ still _stared at the floor. He inhaled. LeBeau beat him to it.

"Are you saying we can not have sex again?"

Stunned eyes latched on Newkirk. "Don't look at me!"

"You can have sex," Elsa said in an irritated tone. "You simply must use protection!"

"Protection?" Carter repeated.

"Condoms," Kinch muttered.

"Ah," Carter said.

"How have I offended you?" Elsa asked.

"You haven't, miss," Carter said, finally daring to look at her. "I'm just a little-, ah,-"

"He is not used to such boldness," Gregori said. "I have told you, Elsa, not everyone is so open."

The baffled look in her face made Hogan smile slightly. "It is natural," she said. "We are all werewolves."

"You're a lady," Carter said. "And, um, ..."

"Would you rather talk about something else?" Elsa asked.

"Please," Carter said. LeBeau brushed his hand over Carter's shoulder.

"What else do we need to know?' Hogan asked.

"And why don't any of you have mates?" Carter asked.

"Carter!" Hogan snapped.

"It is all right, Colonel," Gregori said. "My wife, my mate was shot and killed several years ago. And none of the rest of my pack have found anyone yet. Although all have had suitors."

"With such a lovely lady, I am not surprised," LeBeau flattered. Elsa smiled and Kinch poked LeBeau.

"It will take a special man to win my Elsa," Gregori said. In his voice could be heard obvious pride and a note of clear warning.

"So are Hans' pack all mated?" LeBeau asked.

"Ja," Heinrich spoke up. "Lisel and Hans. Anna and Erich. Gunter and Jenna. Hans and Lisel are the lead pair but they-"

"What?" Hogan asked.

"The majority of packs are led by a mated pair," Stefan said. "As ours was until Sasha died."

"What about pack life?" Kinch asked. "Do werewolves ever leave their pack?"

"There are three ways a werewolf leaves his pack. They leave to start a new pack and rarely go far. The pack is killed around them, like Heinrich's original pack, and rarest of all, a werewolf may be cast off, forced to leave his or her pack," Gregori said.

Hogan nodded slowly. Heinrich hopped up, brought out sandwiches. "I am not a good cook," Elsa said. "But I did make a cake for dessert."

"Thank you," Hogan said. "I'm sure it's great."

"LeBeau is our cook," Carter said. "He makes a wonderful chocolate torte and fantastic struedel."

"Chocolate," Stefan sighed. "I miss chocolate."

"We can get some," Hogan said.

"We can only eat it in small amounts," Gregori said. "Too much chocolate and we get ill." He paused. "You have not noticed?"

"Hold it, we'll get sick?" KInch asked.

"If you eat a lot, you will," Stefan said. Hogan flicked a glance at Newkirk who was listening intently.

As the talking went on, Hogan saw his men definitely become more relaxed, even Newkirk. Yet the Englishman still watched warily and Gregori, too, kept an eye on Newkirk. Hogan also kept an eye on Kinch. Kinch and Elsa chatted animatedly, the lovely woman continually drawing the normally receitant radio man into conversation.

"So werewolves can be made or nature born," Kinch said.

"Yes," Elsa said. "Heinrich and I are nature born. Stefan and my father are made. Like you."

"So when did you first change?" Kinch said.

"I don't know. I know I could shift before age 5."

"So were you a little wolf?" Carter asked.

"Da. I was a cub."

"She was cute," Stefan teased.

Hogan glanced at Gregori. "She looks like her mother," Gregori mused. "Anyway, we welcome all of you to ask questions. And if you need us, you know where we are. I do have a favor to ask you, Colonel."

"Shoot."

"We would like to occasionally travel across your territory. May we?"

Hogan didn't need to see to know Newkirk was bristling. "I see no problem with it," he said. "I ask your discretion when you travel."

"Agreed. And I will ensure my daughter controls her wanderings."

"And I will watch over Kinch."

As the men talked long into the night, Newkirk alone stayed aloof. He listened but didn't actively participate. When they finally headed back to camp, Hogan took him aside. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You controlled yourself."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Newkirk snapped. Hogan drew back in surprise. "I'm not a bloody idiot. I can 'old my temper."

"Easy," Hogan said. "I just meant, I knew it was hard. That Gregori isn't your favorite person."

Newkirk sighed. "It's your call," he said. "Can we just get back to work?"

Hogan nodded. "Let's go."


	25. Chapter 25

Flicker lifted his ears as Whisper streaked by. Whisper bounced from spot to spot, tail waving. Flicker raced after him. The full moon glowed over the woods and perhaps Whisper was a little moon mad for he darted erratically, eyes wide. Flicker threw up his head and looked at the round moon. Seen with wolf eyes, it glowed and seemed oddly beckoning. Whisper wheeled, leaped at Flicker then jumped away.

A bolt of fur and Ghost and Joker galloped into the fray, Goliath a foot behind them. Ghost stopped, stared at the moon more than once. When he broke into an all out run, his pack fell in behind him. Finally slowing to a jog, Ghost glanced around and realized they were far from Stalag 13. He panted and sniffed the air. Cattle nearby, perhaps sheep. He carefully skirted a large pasture and led the group through some winding fields.

Flicker nudged him. Ghost halted and strained his ears. In the distance a train clacked along its rails and Ghost began following the sound. Soon they found the tracks and the train. Joker gave a puzzled mrrr. The train consisted of cattle cars whooshing by and through the stench of smoke, an arid smell of people tickled the wolves' noses. Joker raced along one car, trying to see inside. All he saw were fingers through the slats. He halted, watching the train vanish. Ghost loped alongside him, nudging him gently.

Whisper gave a yip and Ghost immediately turned. In the distance, soldiers walked along the track and Ghost snorted. Immediately the pack melted into the underbrush, listening intently as the soldiers neared. The German soldiers wore the uniforms of a panzer division and appeared to be heading for a small town just ahead. Carefully Ghost began following, sensing his pack fanning out.

"It is taking so long," a soldier said.

"These women are worth the wait!"

"And the money!" another laughed.

"We should have hopped the train."

"It does not stop at town. It is headed for Dachau."

"Think of the girls, Karl! Redheaded, blond, brunette-take your pick!"

"One that lasts all night!"

Ghost stopped as the town drew near. He sat, watching the road thoughtfully. Whisper stood beside him, Goliath pacing restlessly. Then Ghost looked at the moon, glanced over his shoulder and headed for camp.

In the tunnels, Hogan washed his hands as he thought. "What's Dachau?" Carter asked.

"I don't know," Hogan said. "It sounds familiar."

"Nowhere good," Newkirk said. "Did you see anything, Carter?"

"Or scent anything?"

"Just people. They wer in the cattle cars. Why?"

"Transport," Kinch said. "The Krauts are moving people."

"Why?" LeBeau asked. "It makes no sense. Unless those are Allied prisoners."

Carter shook his head. "Too small. The fingers I saw seemed like a kid's."

"Kinch, call London, see if they know Dachau." Hogan paused as LeBeau snapped his fingers. "LeBeau?"

"Dachau! Labor camp," LeBeau said. The Frenchman smiled. "Do you not remember? It has been mentioned once or twice."

"He's right," Kinch said. "I remember now. It's a camp for German discontents."

"Why a kid?" Carter asked.

""The Krauts 'ave them at Stalingrad, why not in their labor camps?" Newkirk scrubbed his nails.

"Good work, LeBeau," Hogan said. He laid a hand on LeBeau's shoulder.

"Ask London anyway, Kinch. "

"Sure. I can ask Elsa if you want. They may know something."

"I'm meeting with Gregori soon. I can ask him too. Let it go, Newkirk."

"Didn't say a word," Newkirk carefully said. Hogan looked closely at his second and mentally sighed. Newkirk was annoyed, yes, but he presented a calm exterior and Hogan could hardly blame him for being annoyed.

"Get over it, Peter," Kinch snapped.

Newkirk's eyes narrowed and Hogan immediately moved between them. "Enough," he ordered. Newkirk grumbled low in his chest but looked away. Kinch looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," Kinch said.

Hogan nodded. "Come on," he said. "Get some sleep."

Newkirk hung back, looking over his shoulder at the emergency tunnel. "Come on," Hogan called softly. Newkirk sighed and headed upstairs.

The next day, Newkirk and LeBeau doubleteamed Schmidt, one of the guards. One of the younger guards, Schmidt had a fast temper and was one guard the prisoners actively disliked. He usually was in one of the watch towers. "Hey, Schmitty," Newkirk called, hiding a smile as the guard smelled of annoyance as he looked at him.

"Go away, Englander. I have no time for your games."

"I told you, Newkirk, he is busy preparing for his transfer," LeBeau said.

"You're probably right, LeBeau."

"I am not being transferred."

"That's not what ol' Klink says. When Burkhalter called and said he needed new guards for Dachau, he suggested you." Newkirk smiled. "Said you would be ideal."

To both prisoners' surprise, Schmidt paled slightly. He took a step closer. "Dachau? What have you heard, frog?"

"Us?" Newkirk said. "'Ear that, Louie? We're the prisoners and he wants to know what we know."

"Oui. Come on Newkirk."

"Go! I will not be transferred to Dachau. Only the Totenkopfverbände guard the labor camps!"

"Maybe you are being promoted," LeBeau suggested.

"Bah," Schmidt spat. "Go away."

Newkirk and LeBeau shrugged and left. They wandered to Schultz, who eyed them with interest. "Any chocolate?" he asked. Newkirk pulled a bar from his pocket. "Danke!"

"Not so fast, Schultzie. We heard some men are being transferred to Dauchau. Where's that?"

"Dachau? It's a town not far from Hammelburg." He snatched for the chocolate but Newkirk yanked it back.

"Come on Schultzie, why would it need guards?'

"Labor camp," Schultz said, looking around warily. "Very bad. I hear no one wants to guard it."

"What is so bad about it?" LeBeau asked.

Schultz leaned close. "Very bad, I hear," he whispered. "Many people die." He tutted and Newkirk handed him the chocolate bar.

"Thanks, Schultz."

Newkirk and LeBeau walked over to the rest of the pack, quickly relaying their information. Hogan nodded. "Newkirk, Whisper ready to run?"

"Anytime, gov."

"Whisper going alone?" Carter blurted.

"No," Hogan said. "I'll go with him. And Newkirk, we'll pack some cameras."

Newkirk nodded. Hogan glanced at Kinch. "Keep an eye on things."

"Run fast," Kinch said. "You're going to have to fly."

"That's why Whisper's going. He's fastest."

"And Ghost?" LeBeau asked.

"I'll have to run fast, too."

"What are the _Totenkopfverbände?"_ Carter asked.

"SS unit," Hogan said. "Waffen-SS. Death's Head."

"Oh, they sound charming," Newkirk muttered. "This should be a bloody laugh riot."

That night, Kinch tightened the pack on Whisper's back. Newkirk had redesigned the packs so that they were like long, tubular saddlebags, one pack on each side. Straps buckled around the belly and chest. All the werewolves had their own packs but none were especially fond of them. While comfortable, running free always was preferable. Ghost wore his packs as well. The wolves slipped off through the newest tunnel, an offshoot of the emergency tunnel. The ladders were too difficult for wolf paws, so the pack, working alone, had dug the offshoot tunnel and actually made a staircase. The tunnel ended at a thorny thicket and the wolves quickly made a path.

Ghost and Whisper broke into a lope. The dying grass brushed their legs as they ran and Ghost let Whisper lead. Whisper darted around bushes and small trees. ears continually moving. When they paused for a breather, Whisper looked around worriedly. Ghost nuzzled him and Whisper licked Ghost's muzzle. Both wolves panted for a few minutes then Whisper headed off again.

Ghost ran after him. Before he saw Dachau, he smelled it. Whisper gave a growl that ended on a quizzical note. Ghost nudged him and took the lead. They skirted the town and found the camp.


	26. Chapter 26

It resembled Stalag 13 superficially, but nothing else. Whisper gave a low, low whine as the smell of rotting human flesh trickled through to them. Ghost pressed close to him and then the two crept closer, each one carefully watching for the guards. As late as it was, people still moved around and a general dankness hung everywhere. Both wolves looked up as flakes spun through the air. Ghost snorted in bafflement. He whuffed suddenly-ash. Thick flakes of ash spiraled all around the camp. Somewhere in the camp something burned. Whisper reached around and pulled at his buckles. Ghost assisted and soon Newkirk pulled on plain trousers and an equally plain shirt as well as slip on shoes. He tugged out a camera. "Watch my back, mate," he whispered. Ghost snorted and shoved him with his head. Newkirk rubbed the thick fur, scratched his ears, and Ghost gently grasped his hand in his teeth for a moment or two.

Newkirk slipped around the fence, taking photos only where he could, refusing to use a flash. Guards paced the fenceline and everywhere the stench of rot and death hung.

Wolves scented differently than humans. Slightly rotting fish and deer scat actually didn't repel the werewolves as it once did the humans. But dead carcasses were dead carcasses and human flesh had a sickly sweet smell that neither werewolf liked. Newkirk rubbed his nose, reached out and stroked Ghost's head. Ghost never left his side, pressed constantly against Newkirk's leg. Newkirk occasionally trembled, tried to continually bury his fingers into Ghost's fur.

The photos would never reflect what Ghost and Newkirk found. Newkirk continually found himself retching and Ghost tugged him, forced him to continue. As the minutes ticked by, Newkirk took as many photos as he dared then stripped, hastily shoved the camera and clothes back into the packs and shifted. Whisper wriggled into the pack straps and Ghost tightened the belts with his teeth. Whisper leaned his head against Ghost's shoulder, scented Ghost's own distress. The two wolves silently disappeared into the shadows and headed for Stalag 13.

Ghost led, urging Whisper to run. Their paws sank into rotting vegetation and Whisper yelped as his paws hit bone. He lunged up and scrambled onto a tree trunk. Ghost bounded to a flat rock, crinkling his muzzle. They had stumbled into a pit of corpses.

Whisper growled savagely, then hurled himself forward. Ghost followed and the two raced into the night. Far away and much later, both wolves staggered to a stop, sides heaving. Ghost laid down and Whisper flopped next to him. The two touched flanks and Whisper realized both of them were trembling. He nudged Ghost, pressed close, and Ghost pressed back, rested his muzzle on Whisper's neck.

Ghost glanced at the sky. Minutes were flying by yet missing morning roll call didn't seem that big a deal at the moment. He rested his face against Whisper, scenting Whisper's despair as easily as he scented the ash which coated both of them. Whisper whimpered just once, a heartbreaking mew that Ghost echoed. Side by side, they watched the dawn and waited for the day to pass, taking comfort from each other. Kinch paced the tunnel. "What's the plan?" Carter said.

"Damn it," Kinch muttered. "We'll have to cover for them."

"How?" LeBeau asked.

"Let's say they're sick," Kinch sighed.

"We can try," LeBeau said.

Schultz surprisingly bought the story. When LeBeau mentioned that both Newkirk and Hogan had been vomiting and it seemed contagious, the rotund sergeant fled. Klink, however, was a harder sell. "Really, Kommandant, they're sick," Kinch said.

"Food poisoning, maybe," LeBeau said. "We are fed such trash."

"You are given wonderful food," Klink snapped. "Get Hogan immediately!"

"He's sick," Carter protested.

"Now!"

Klink pushed into Hogan's quarters. "Hogan! Hogan has escaped! Schultz, Release the dogs!"

"Damn," Kinch muttered.

All the men were restricted to barracks. The dogs spilled out and Carter and LeBeau looked nervously at Kinch. "Should we go out?" LeBeau asked. "We can draw off the dogs."

"No," Kinch said. "Let's just wait."

He understood the others' concern. The three werewolves paced restlessly through the barracks. "Relax, guys," Mills said. "Hogan and Newkirk can take care of themselves."

Kinch jerked as howls erupted outside the camp. Carter jumped to his feet. "It's just the dogs," Parks said.

Kinch sagged as relief swept through him. He'd distinguished Ghost's voice and Whisper's before the dogs had joined in. LeBeau and Carter both smiled and Carter sat down. "I think you're right, Mills," Kinch said. "I'm sure the Colonel's ok."

As night neared, Ghost stood and Whisper followed suit. Silently they moved through the woods. Both wolves ignored the scent of dogs-all the camp dogs had learned to ignore the wolves. Ghost pushed his way into the thicket and headed down the tunnel, Whisper behind him.

Kinch heard them first. He quickly headed down the tunnel where Hogan and Newkirk washed up. The smell hit him first, a sickening, rotted smell and an overcast of despondency. "Guys?"

His packmates looked at him and Kinch immediately went forward, pulling Hogan, then Newkirk into rough hugs. He felt both men tremble under his hands and breathed slowly, trying to calm his friends. Newkirk briefly pressed his face against Kinch's shoulder. Kinch rumpled Newkirk's hair, stroked Hogan's shoulder. He felt warm bodies press close and LeBeau and Carter joined the group. No one spoke, they just touched and tried to offer whatever comfort they could. Hogan finally sighed, his body rippling. "We need showers," he said. "And then we'll tell you what we found."

"Sure, Colonel," Kinch said. "We'll have coffee ready."

"And have some food," LeBeau said.

"I'm not 'ungry," Newkirk said hollowly.

"You need something," Hogan said softly. "Just a sandwich or something easy, LeBeau. Thanks. Come on, Newkirk." They walked off. Within 30 minutes, they were back in the barracks, smelling of the camp's cheap soap and dressed in clean uniforms.

"No one caught you?" Olson asked.

"Nope," Hogan grinned. "Get some sleep, guys. Command crew, down below."

In the tunnel, LeBeau pressed coffee and sandwiches on his friends. Newkirk sipped his slowly and stared at the sandwiches. "Eat," Hogan ordered quietly.

"Not real hungry, gov."

"Eat. We can't help them by starving ourselves." Hogan took a bite from his sandwich and Newkirk followed suit. The two men ate steadily although not enthusiastically. When they were done, Hogan and Newkirk looked at each other. Hogan laid a hand on Newkirk's shoulder. "You ready?"

"Yes, sir." Newkirk inhaled.

Hogan looked at his concerned men, smelled their curiosity and worry. "You all need to sit down. This isn't pretty..."

_(A/N A Special Thank you to my beta!)_


	27. Chapter 27

As Hogan spoke (with Newkirk's occasional descripitions), the pack all drew closer and closer to each other. Hogan described the crematorium, the corpses they had scented and saw. He told of watching guards drag prisoners out of their barracks naked and make them run around the camp. "All the prisoners are skin and bones. Literally. And if rot and horror has a smell, it's there," Hogan whispered. He swallowed hard. "It is hell on Earth. Even when we left, we stumbled into a mass grave."

"Human flesh sticks in your fur and claws." Newkirk shuddered. "I sank in up to my shoulder." His skin turned white and Hogan clasped his knee. Fear and despair hung over them.

"I am so sorry," LeBeau said, speaking first. He shivered and then he touched Newkirk's shoulder, laid a hand on Hogan's back. Both men smiled weakly at him.

"What will we do?" Carter looked wildly at Hogan, then the others. "We have to save who we can."

"How?" Newkirk bitterly asked. "We don't have the facilities or any place for that."

"We have to do something!" Carter's voice rose. "Colonel-I'll go..."

Hogan stood up and grabbed Carter. "No," he said. "No." His command tone ended in a low growl. "No one goes. We will send the photos to London and we work with them to finish this." His teeth glinted, shining and elongating as he glared at Carter. Carter stared at him and then nodded, looking aside.

"But people are dying," Carter said softly.

"I know." Hogan hugged Carter. He looked at at each of his pack. "No one goes off alone to Dachau. No one does anything or says anything without clearing it with me. Understood?"

"Oui."

"Yes," Kinch and Carter said. Hogan looked at Newkirk. Newkirk nodded and Hogan relaxed. Carter tilted his head as Hogan sat back down.

"I'm sorry," Carter said as Newkirk stripped and shifted into wolf form. Whisper curled into a ball and Hogan sighed. Yet he merely stroked Whisper's back.

"Kinch, set up a rendevous for the film drop off." His fingers dug into Whisper's dark fur. "Newkirk and I will reappear outside the gates. I hope you don't mind cooler time, Peter."

Whisper looked up and whoofed. LeBeau rested a hand on Whisper's hip and Whisper brushed his muzzle over LeBeau's hand. "Don't spend all night as Whisper," Hogan said absently. He rubbed his temples. "Get some sleep, guys." He stood up and walked to a cot. Carter brought him an extra blanker. "Thanks, Carter." He laid down.

Whisper went to another cot and stretched out. Kinch got up, touched both Whisper and Hogan, and walked to the radio. LeBeau and Carter settled near their friends. When Hogan woke with a gasp, reeking of sweaty terror, Carter talked to him. When Whisper trembled and whimpered, LeBeau stroked him. Kinch joined Carter and LeBeau in soothing the nightmares. When Hogan woke the third time, Whisper hopped down and Hogan grabbed Whisper's neck. He inhaled shakily and Whisper nuzzled him. "Thanks, Whisper," he whispered. He looked at his pack. "Thanks, all of you."

"We're pack," Carter said. "We're all family."

"What he said," Kinch said, resting his hand on Carter's back. Whisper laid a paw on Hogan's knee. LeBeau nodded.

"We are here for you."

"I know. " He sighed. "We will get through this." Carter began patting Whisper.

"Of course we will." Kinch looked at Hogan. "Sir, we can get Wilson or LeBeau can make cocoa."

"Oui!"

Carter held Whisper in his arms, rubbing his ears. "You should switch back," Hogan said. Whisper dropped his head. "Come on, Whisper."

Carter released Whisper and reluctantly Whisper shifted. Newkirk dressed. LeBeau brought a pot and handed out mugs of cocoa. Again Hogan and Newkirk sat together. Newkirk drank his slowly while Hogan gulped his. This time they fell asleep in their cots and stayed asleep.

"We need to do something," Carter whispered to Kinch.

"You heard the Colonel," Kinch reminded. "We'll give London our information and pictures."

"But-all the bodies? Heck, a crematorium? And what about how the prisoners are being abused and starved?"

"Andrew, the Colonel said no. We will do something," Kinch said. He grasped Andrew's shoulder. "We'll be OK."

"All right," Carter sighed. He looked at LeBeau who sat by the cots. Newkirk suddenly twisted and his clothes tore as he shifted in his sleep. LeBeau's eyes widened.

"We can change in our sleep?" Carter blurted.

"I've done it once or twice," LeBeau admitted. He rubbed Whisper's back. "Not often, however."

"That's not good..." Kinch frowned.

"It is stress, I think." LeBeau stood. "Both times I did it, I know I had had nightmares and couldn't sleep. I slept better as Flicker. Newkirk probably sleeps better as Whisper."

"Why?" Carter asked.

"It is easier as a wolf at times," LeBeau said softly. "Clearer." He stroked Whisper's head and an eye half opened then closed.

Kinch and Carter exchanged equally baffled looks. "We should tell the others that the Colonel and Newkirk are back," Kinch said. A_nd tell the Colonel about this night shifting tomorrow._

"I told them when I was getting the cocoa." LeBeau yawned. "We should sleep too." He pushed Whisper over and laid down beside the big wolf. Kinch sighed and set a clock and then laid down on a cot. Carter followed suit.

Hogan woke first, startled by the sound of snoring. He glanced around. His pack slept on cots nearby, LeBeau and Whisper sharing one. Hogan sighed deeply. At that, Kinch lifted his head and Carter yawned. "Morning," Kinch said.

"Morning. Did he spend all night as Whisper?"

"He shifted in his sleep," Kinch murmured. "Carter, will you make coffee?"

"Sure. I'll bring some down, sir, along with breakfast."

"Thanks. Have LeBeau make the breakfast, please."

"I can cook," Carter said.

"I know," Hogan said. "Just-LeBeau makes my eggs as I like them."

"Oui," LeBeau's voice echoed. Hogan looked over as Whisper jumped down. For a moment, Hogan grinned as the dark wolf fumbled around, legs tangled in sleeves and pants. Whisper bit at his shirt then shifted.

"Morning, sunshine," Kinch said. "Nice shirt."

Newkirk's shirt hung on him, large rips and tears in it. "Very funny," Newkirk said. "Just what happened?"

"You shifted in your sleep." Carter swallowed. "LeBeau says he's done it too. It's because of stress."

Newkirk's eyes widened. "I'm not-well, maybe a bit. I've never shifted in me sleep before."

"Try not to do it often," Hogan advised. "Get up for roll call. Newkirk, after breakfast, we'll go out the emergency tunnel and give ourselves up."

"Gotcha."

After roll call, LeBeau hurriedly made eggs, toast, and potatoes. He hurried down below. Carter followed with coffee. "Thanks, LeBeau," Hogan said. "And thanks to you, too, Carter."

"You're welcome," Carter said. "Where's Newkirk?"

"Developing the film." Hogan began eating. "He didn't want anyone else to have to see it."

Newkirk appeared as if hearing his name. He handed the roll of film to Kinch. Then he drank his coffee, ignoring his breakfast until Hogan tapped the plate. Newkirk ate slowly. "You all right?" Hogan asked.

"No, sir. But I will be." He fiddled with a piece of toast. "At least the photos are a bit easier than the reality." He rubbed his eyes suddenly. Hogan patted his shoulder and LeBeau's fingers skimmed Newkirk's knuckles. Newkirk gave a half smile and then looked at Hogan.

"Ready for the cooler, sir?"

"I hope they've redecorated," Hogan said, swallowing the last of his coffee. "Everyone topside for roll call. Come on, Newkirk. Let's go make Klink happy."


	28. Chapter 28

_AN: Thank you for the reviews! Forgive me if I have not responded-my email had serious issues and I lost some and I am not sure who I responded to! Thank you!_

Newkirk sighed as Hogan began pacing again. "Come on, gov," he groaned. "Get some sleep."

"This sucks. What is wrong with me?"

"You know what's wrong." Newkirk stepped closer to the door so Hogan could see him. "I-"

"If you say 'I told you so' or 'I warned you', I'll tear off your tail," Hogan snapped. Newkirk prudently remained silent. He understood. As former pack leader, he well knew the stress of not being with the others. He also knew he was the one keeping Hogan as calm as he was. Hogan rattled his door then glanced at Newkirk. "Sorry."

"It's ok." Newkirk rubbed his neck. "Least you're in the cell with the tunnel."

"Like you can't pick the lock." Hogan gave a gusty sigh. "Smell that?"

"The coming snow? Yes."

"I was thinking. Newkirk, if I have to return to Dachau, will you come?"

"'As to be me, gov. The others don't need to experience that."

Hogan gave a quick smile. "Thanks." He turned around. "Wilson?"

"Hi, Colonel." Newkirk pressed against the door, wondering what was going on.

Wilson quickly looked over Hogan. "Is there a problem?" Hogan asked.

"Not really, sir. We're all restricted to barracks and it's easier for me to come than the others. You might have company soon. Simmons and Trenton have been hassling Jenkins again and LeBeau stepped in. Honestly, Colonel, Kinch, LeBeau, and Carter are all on edge."

"We'll be out in a day. Tell Kinch to keep a lid on it."

"Yes, sir." Wilson's voice dropped. "Colonel, I know you like to run but I need to talk about Newkirk. Should he be in wolf form so often? I mean, Kinch said he shifted in his sleep. From what Elsa said..."

"Elsa?" Hogan blurted. "What's she doing here?"

"I spotted her yesterday and we talked through the wire," Wilson said.

"About us?"

"Well, sir, you aren't sharing information. Elsa knows I'm the medic and I'm safe."

"Next time, talk to me."

"Colonel, I've tried." Wilson ground his teeth. "Newkirk hasn't said word one and you all are so tight mouthed, I'm lucky to learn anything. And since you and Newkirk came back, all of the command crew has been broody. Carter, _Carter, _has been picking fights."

"We're fine."

"Colonel, I don't think you know. I picked here to talk to you because this is the only solitary place I can talk to you alone."

Hogan gestured to his cot. "All right, let's talk."

Newkirk stripped and shifted to Whisper, ears cupping forward.

Wilson began slowly. As he went through his concerns, Hogan listened intently, breathing in Wilson's worry. In the background, he heard soft clicks of claws and mentally cursed Newkirk's curiosity and hearing. When Wilson finally left, after reassurances that yes, they would talk and yes, the pack would inform him more, Hogan raised his voice only slightly. "I know you're listening, Peter. It's rude to eavesdrop."

A click and Whisper's glowing eyes appeared in the barred window. Hogan sighed and shook his head. "Come on. We'll run some."

Carter glared at Mills as the shorter man flopped into his bunk. "You don't know anything," he snapped. "God you're an idiot, Mills."

"You sure are pissy when your boyfriend's in the cooler."

LeBeau grabbed Carter. "Andre, no!"

Kinch leaped across the table and stood between Carter and Mills. "Go below, Carter," he said in a low tone. "Listen for London." Carter eyed him then stalked to the bunk entrance and headed below. Kinch jerked his head and LeBeau followed.

Mills gave a muffled laugh that stopped instantly when Kinch whirled on his. Light reflected in Kinch's eyes, making them shine oddly, almost as if they were glowing. "You lay off Carter," Kinch said. "Or I'll let Newkirk have five minutes alone with you."

"I'm not afraid of Newkirk," Mills scoffed.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. I have to go below. Keep look out."

Mills rolled his eyes but nodded.

In the tunnel, Carter kicked the wall angrily. "I am sorry," LeBeau said. "We are all frustrated."

"I hate this! We sit around while people are dying! Did you smell Newkirk's clothes from Dachau? They reek of smoke and rotted flesh. And we're not doing anything!"

"We told London," Kinch said as he dropped beside them. "We got the film to them. They'll send us a response."

Carter growled, a brief rumble. Kinch eyed him but LeBeau was the one who soothed both of them by rubbing a hand over Carter's back and patting Kinch's arm. Then LeBeau turned. "Wilson?"

The medic appeared a minute later. He wasn't surprised to see all of the crew together nor that all of them were waiting for him. Kinch's eyes suddenly narrowed and he pushed between LeBeau and Carter. "Where have you been?" Kinch demanded.

"What?" Wilson asked.

"Elsa! Why are you with Elsa?" Kinch grabbed Wilson's arm.

"Relax, Kinch. She met me through the wire."

Kinch released him and shoved his hands in his pockets. Wilson nervously noted how tight Kinch's lips pressed together. The black man glared at him and Carter laid a hand on Kinch. To Wilson's surprise, Carter embraced Kinch, brushed his nose and lips across the back of Kinch's neck. Kinch exhaled and Carter let Kinch go. LeBeau handed Kinch a steaming mug. Kinch reached out and stroked LeBeau's arm. "Thanks." Kinch looked at Wilson. "I'm sorry. Did she have a message?"

"She said hello. I was hoping the Colonel would visit."

Carter grinned. "They're coming."

Wilson turned as two wolves headed his way. He inhaled. Newkirk and Hogan paced almost silently, Hogan's winter fur inky black and darker than Newkirk's softer black. Newkirk looked at Wilson, nostrils widening. Then he walked to LeBeau and LeBeau tickled his ears. Carter took a robe to Hogan, patted his back, and then stepped back. "What's going on, Joe? Now what's wrong?" Hogan pulled on his robe.

"This is what I'm talking about." Wilson pointed. Hogan glanced to where Carter stroked Newkirk's ears. "He's not a dog, Colonel."

Hogan gestured and Newkirk reared up, shifting. "What do you care?' Newkirk muttered, pulling on a different robe. Wilson sighed.

"I need to know what is going on. I can't take care of you as a medic if you aren't telling me things. Why in the world are you petting him, Carter?"

Carter squirmed. "We're pack," he said simply.

"Later," Hogan said. "What else? And why do you smell like Elsa? Is she here again?"

"She was. She wants to meet with you." Wilson inhaled. "And I'd like to talk with her more."

"Wilson, she's not part of this operation. But we can talk. I already agreed to that."

Wilson rubbed his head. "So can you at least tell me why everyone in the command crew has been on edge?"

Hogan looked at LeBeau. "Can I have coffee?"

"Of course! Pierre?"

"That would be great, Louie."

"Wilson?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"I'll help," Carter offered. Kinch and Newkirk looked at Hogan expectedly. He sat down, gestured absently, and Kinch and Newkirk pulled up chairs.

"Look," Hogan started. "We're werewolves. We are pack and rely on each other."

"I know, Colonel, but the men-a few-are starting to wonder. I know some of the guys are wondering just how we can do so many long distance jobs. I mean, you've expanded the sabotage area considerably. And that last flight crew you brought in-they came down quite a distance away."

"We became werewolves for that reason," Hogan said. "I can deal with questions. Are the men afraid of me?"

"You can be growly, mate," Newkirk said.

"True," Kinch agreed.

"Maybe if my seconds weren't so stubborn, I wouldn't growl," Hogan replied amusedly. Kinch and Newkirk just grinned unrepentantly.

Wilson shook his head. "They're not afraid, Colonel. They're baffled. I just wish you'd explain more, get a cover."

"I was thinking of explaining that we had an Underground unit helping us," Hogan said. "Maybe Elsa and Heinrich." To Wilson's surprise, Hogan looked away from him and stared at Newkirk. "Their pack could be a valuable excuse." Newkirk's gazed lowered, Hogan turned back to Wilson. "Wilson, what else should I know?"

"What I need to know. Heck, Colonel, I don't understand all this and I don't want to pump Elsa."

Kinch suddenly elbowed Newkirk as Newkirk chortled. Hogan shook his head. LeBeau and Carter appeared with coffee, cream, and sugar as well as sandwiches and cookies. "What about this? You five eat so much..."

"We burn off calories," Hogan said. "Guys, tell Wilson what he wants to know."

"Sir?" Carter asked, eyes wide.

"It's all right, Carter. Wilson won't tell."

Wilson didn't miss the others exchanging looks. "What do you want to know?" Carter asked.

"I know Elsa and I met Heinrich," Wilson said. "Who are they?"

"Another pack," LeBeau said.

"Kinch's girl," Carter said.

"She's-" Kinch started. "All right, we're dating."

"And mating," LeBeau said.

Kinch's dark face reddened and Newkirk sniggered. "We're not mates," Kinch said mildly. "We date. She's nice." LeBeau and Newkirk rolled their eyes and LeBeau pulled a chair next to the Brit. Their shoulders brushed and Wilson sighed.

"That," he said. He looked at Hogan.

"That's easy," Carter said. "Wolves and werewolves touch. We're pack. We're family."

"We have to communicate," LeBeau said. An unspoken 'stupid' rang at the end of the sentence.

Wilson nodded. "Do you understand?" Hogan said.

"Not really," Wilson said. "It's just weird. LeBeau stroking Newkirk's ears."

"We feel," Newkirk said. "When we're wolves, we can be petted."

"And Carter snuggling Kinch? It was kind of creepy."

Carter flushed. "He wasn't snuggling," Kinch said. "It's a calming gesture."

"We rely on each other," Hogan said. "It's all entwined."

Wilson slowly nodded. "All right." He looked at Kinch. "So what was going on this week?"

"We need each other," Kinch said simply.

Wilson nodded. "OK. This is what I need to know. If you five need each other, then maybe I can convince Klink to spring the Colonel for medical reasons when he's in the cooler again."

"I couldn't leave Newkirk alone," Hogan said. "We need to have each other. I mean, each pack member must have at least one more near him."

"You're saying you five can't be alone?"

"We can," LeBeau corrected. ""We just can not be alone forever."

"And Newkirk changing in his sleep?"

"Who told you that?" Newkirk demanded.

"I did," Kinch admitted. "I was worried."

"I don't do it often," Newkirk said.

"Has anyone else done this?" Wilson asked.

"I have," LeBeau said.

"Not me," Carter said. "Not that I know of."

"Or me." Kinch looked at the Colonel.

Colonel Hogan sighed. "Yes, I have, a couple times. Stress, I believe."

"Colonel, that's an issue. If someone changes and anyone in Barracks Two sees, what are we going to do? The other men aren't going to see men, they'll see monsters."

"We're not bloody monsters!"

The roar sent made Wilson blanch and Newkirk leaped to his feet, teeth lengthening into fangs. "If you want monsters, go to Dachau!"

Hogan stood, stepped in front of Wilson and reached for Newkirk. Hogan laid his hands on both Newkirk's shoulders. "Relax, Peter," he said softly as the others nervously waited. "Back to me."

To Wilson's horror, tears began trickling down Newkirk's cheeks. Hogan slowly embraced the Englishman, held him tight. LeBeau bit his lower lip and Carter nervously paced. Kinch stood up, reaching out to caress Newkirk's back.

It only took a few minutes but gave Wilson an inkling of both how close the pack was and that something was drastically wrong. Newkirk trembled, his teeth shrank to normal, and he gasped a few times. Hogan pulled away and Wilson nervously noted his CO was weeping as well. Newkirk angrily swatted his face and LeBeau handed a handkerchief to Newkirk. Carter handed one to Hogan.

Newkirk wiped his face. "Sorry, mates," he said. "I won't 'urt you, Wilson."

"I know," Wilson said. Newkirk looked at Hogan and then hung his head.

"Sorry, sir."

"Peter, it's all right." Hogan squeezed Newkirk's shoulder.

"I'm all right." Newkirk looked around at the other men. "I'm OK."

Wilson stood up. "What's at Dachau?"

Hogan patted Newkirk and sat down like an old, old man. "Sit back down, Joe. This isn't going to be pretty."

As Newkirk and Hogan again explained Dachau, Carter, LeBeau, and Kinch pressed close to them. Wilson's gaze flicked over them briefly. Then he listened.

When Hogan finished, Wilson unclenched his fists. "So what will we do?" he whispered.

"We've contacted London," Hogan said, patting Newkirk's knee. "And hopefully they'll give us some ideas."

"The other men may have ideas," Wilson suggested.

"No," Newkirk blurted. "You can't tell them!"

"Why not?" Wilson demanded.

"He's right," Hogan said. "You can't. Wilson, there are a lot of guards there. This isn't something prisoners should know about."

"But Colonel!"

"No," Hogan ordered. "No one beyond us knows. That camp is not something we talk about. I get the feeling that what happens in that camp is not general knowledge."

"He's right," Newkirk said. "We were there, Joe. That place is more guarded than here. And those guards are not friendly."

"God." Wilson rubbed his forehead. "OK. Oh, and you all need to talk more."

"What?" LeBeau asked.

"When you five are together, you actually don't talk a lot. I watched the Colonel here start to say something and then stop and you guys seem to know exactly what he wants."

"Oops," Carter muttered.

"What?" Wilson said.

"We read each other," Kinch said. "Body language and scent."

"Scent?"

"We scent," LeBeau said. "We know when people are upset or happy."

Wilson nodded. "All right," he said. "Well, thanks for sharing with me." He stood up. "Good night Colonel, guys."

"Good night," Hogan said, feeling utterly worn out. He watched Wilson leave and glanced at his watch. "We got time. Anyone want to run?"

Five minutes later, the pack raced through the woods. Wilson watched from a tall tree. When he dropped to the ground, he gasped as a shadowy figure grabbed his arm. He inhaled. "Who are you?"

Blue eyes stared into his. "Tell Newkirk I visited," a female voice said.

"Who are you?"

The eyes gleamed and white teeth flashed into a breathtaking smile. "You can call me his second mother."


	29. Chapter 29

Newkirk tilted his head as Wilson explained his encounter. Wilson had immediately pulled Newkirk aside when he saw him in the morning and Newkirk listened intently. In fact, his nostrils had flared widely yet he listened to the whole story before saying a word.

"Who is it?"

"No one good. But I planned for this, mate. Look, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Wilson said.

"Don't mention it to anyone else yet, all right?"

"What are you planning?" Wilson demanded.

"Nothing major, mate. Really, Joe, I just would like to take care of this myself."

Wilson sighed. "All right. Don't make me regret this."

"Thanks, Wilson."

Newkirk headed for the tunnels immediately. He hadn't lied totally-he did have a plan. He'd planned for this ever since he'd met Hans and that pack. He hurried along the emergency tunnel. He quickly found the gear he'd hidden quite a long time ago. He stripped and put on the pack. He shifted and used his teeth to tighten the belts. Then he loped off, heading out the tunnel. When he reached the exit, he crouched in the thicket and listened. Then he bolted off.

Now he began using all the wolf skills he knew. He doubled back on his track, walked along tree trunks, even walked in the icy stream for around a half mile or so to kill his scent. Then he raced through the woods, leaping side to side to confuse anyone trying to track him by scent. _My fight. mates. I'm sorry. _He also continually scented the air for any traces of Lisel, Hans, or anyone of that pack. He knew Hans and Lisel would come back. He needed to find them first.

Hours later, he caught a whiff and began to run. When he neared a village pub, he stopped. Hastily he shifted, pulled clothes from the pack, and dressed. He tucked a luger under his jacket and strolled towards the cars. Easy enough to catch the scents of the pack. He stood by the Mercedes and patiently waited.

Hans and Lisel emerged with the other four members of the pack behind them. At the sight of the Englishman, they halted as one. "Ain't you in the wrong neighborhood, Fritzie?" Newkirk asked.

"You came," Hans said, a deep growl in his words. "I thought you would be with the curs you turned. How many died while you fumbled around?"

"That's not why I'm here. I'm here to meet you. I 'ear I'm supposed to call you out, pack leader to pack leader. So I am. You, though, Hanzie, not your ruddy pack. This is for leaders." _Please don't know the gov leads the pack now._

"I am a leader," Lisel snarled.

"I understand that but this is between males, f_raulien_," Newkirk said. "'Sides, once I finish off ol' Hans 'ere, you'll be all alone." He leered at her. "Then me and you can get to know each other better."

Hans stepped forward, every muscle tense. "You dare," he sputtered.

Newkirk pulled back his lips to reveal his teeth in something someone might call a smile. "You ready to deal, Hans? You and me, pack leader. Tooth to tooth. Leave the others out of this." _Come on, Hans, this is honor. Use that Aryan sense of superiority and agree to this. _"You're not afraid of me, are you, Hans?"

"Hans..." Lisel muttered as Hans stiffened.

"He's right," Anna softly said. "He has the right to call a pack leader fight."

"I will destroy you," Hans promised.

"You can try," Newkirk sneered. "All you have to do is follow me, Hans. Let's finish this." He grinned at Lisel. "I'll be back for you."

She growled at him.

"So, let's go," Hans said.

"Follow me, mate. Your buddies can wait. I'll bring back your hide to them."

"You're awfully cocky," Gunter said.

Newkirk didn't reply, just stared at Hans. Then he walked towards the woods. Near the trees, he pulled off his clothes and shifted just as Hans barreled towards him.

Newkirk spun and then ran. He turned, leaped, snapped the air beside Han's muzzle, and darted off. _This better work. Or I'm a dead man._

"God damn it!"

Hogan slammed a hand into the wall. Kinch, Carter,and LeBeau all nervously watched him. "Why would he do this?" Hogan asked rhetorically. "Is he insane?"

"I'm sure he has a reason," Carter said.

"Really?" Hogan demanded. "Like what?"

"There could have been an emergency," Carter said.

"Why wouldn't he tell us?" Kinch asked.

"Oui, I agree. He should have told us," LeBeau said.

"All right, enough. We know he took off as Whisper. We'll find him tonight." In Hogan's tone were the unspoken words _and heaven help him then._

"We can see if anyone talked to him," Carter suggested. "Before he left."

"Good idea," Hogan said. "LeBeau, grab Jenkins. He has be Newkirk tonight."

"Oui," LeBeau said.

The men scattered. Carter found Wilson first. "Have you seen Newkirk?" Carter asked.

"Not since this morning."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really," Wilson said. "Why?"

"He's disappeared," Carter said. "And we're trying to find him."

"Can't you scent him?"

"Well, yeah, some." Carter kicked the dirt at his feet. The nervousness in Wilson's scent made him long to grab him, demand to know what the medic knew. "What did Newkirk say?"

"Nothing really, Carter."

"Please."

"Carter, it was nothing!"

Carter scented the lie and bit back his fury. "Wilson, I know he said something. He could be in trouble."

Wilson nervously looked to the ground. "All right. I ran into a woman in the woods last night."

"A woman?" Carter tilted his head.

"She told me to tell Newkirk she was around, that she was his second mother."

Carter shook his head. "What? Look, we have to tell the Colonel. Did you recognize her?"

"She's got blue eyes. That's all I really saw. Spoke English."

"I don't get it."

Hogan listened intently as did Kinch and LeBeau. "Second mother?" Kinch asked. "Louis, didn't you say Newkirk didn't have a mother?"

"His mother is dead. As is his _gran mere_."

"Then who can it be?" Carter asked.

"Lisel," Hogan said, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's most likely Lisel."

Wilson drew his brows together. "Lisel?"

"She created Newkirk. As a werewolf, that is. She's back. And that means Hans and the pack is back as well. Damn!"

"Now what?" Carter stared at Hogan. "They'll kill him!"

"Why?" Wilson asked.

"Because Newkirk wasn't supposed to live," Hogan replied absently, obviously lost in thought. "He's not German, not pure blooded. Hans and Lisel don't like that."

"And you all?" Wilson asked.

"They will not like us either." LeBeau began pacing. "What is he thinking? He is not pack leader anymore and..."

"Anymore?" Wilson asked.

"Newkirk led us for awhile," Kinch said. "In wolf form."

"Newkirk?" Wilson shook his head. "Now I've heard everything."

"He was a good leader," Carter said.

"So why would he go alone?" kinch asked.

"I don't know," Hogan said. "Unless he's trying a pack leader challenge."

All his pack looked puzzled save Kinch. "What's that?" Carter asked.

"A pack leader challenges another. It can be one on one. It means no matter who wins, the pack is safe, even if the leader dies in combat."

"But Newkirk isn't leader anymore," Carter said.

"Yes but Hans doesn't know that." Hogan rubbed his neck. "If Newkirk is clever enough, he'll put himself forward as pack leader."

"Are you saying he'll kill himself?" Wilson asked, doubt in his voice.

"He'll sacrifice himself," Hogan corrected.

"That's ridiculous. Newkirk is a great guy but he's not going to put himself in harm's way for anyone."

"He would for the pack," LeBeau said.

"No, not even for you. He's not a sacrificing kind of guy."

Joe, this is one of those things we can't explain and you can't understand," Kinch slowly said. "Just take our word for it. Newkirk cares about himself, sure, but he'd do anything for us."

"And us him," Carter said.

"Your personalities changed that much?"

"No," Hogan said. "It just brought different aspects forward. Newkirk is the same person just as we are."

Wilson didn't look convinced but held his tongue. Hogan restlessly paced from side to side. "Sir, we need to go," Carter said. "If the pack gets hold of Newkirk..."

"We can't all leave, Carter. Kinch, you take off. Go ask Elsa and Gregori if they can help find him. Try to be back before evening roll call."

"Yes, sir." Kinch took off.

"Is that it?" LeBeau demanded.

"For now, yes," Hogan snapped. "We have evening roll call soon. After lights out, we sneak out."

"And Peter?" LeBeau asked.

"We hope he's still in one piece."


	30. Chapter 30

Stefan picked his way through the heavy snow as Wind raced to him and then away. Stefan ignored the tattered body of the great gold wolf nearby, his gaze focused on the black form Wind stood beside. "Huh. He still breathes." Stefan ran his hands over the broken body. "Not good. I need to move him, Wind. I need a dry area." He smiled at the crude bandages Heinrich had placed on the black wolf.

Wind whoofed and bounced forward. Stefan carefully slid his arms under Newkirk's battered form and staggered forward. Wind snatched up Stefen's medical bag and darted ahead, leading Stefan to a nearby snug hay barn. Stefan laid Newkirk down on a bale of hay, then looked around. Wind shifted and Stefan and Heinrich carefully placed haybales into a rough but sturdy 'table' and then Stefan pulled a white sheet from his bag and covered the hay. Heinrich pulled out a robe from the bag and pulled it on. Stefan lifted Newkirk to the 'table' and began inspecting him. "Will he live?" Heinrich asked nervously.

"All I can say is he is still alive now and it would be much easier if he were in human form." Stefan began parting blood soaked fur. "Lay out my instruments, Heinrich, and then watch for the colonel and his pack. I have no doubt they will soon be here." He shook his head. "I would have bet much that the Corporal could never kill Hans. Did you see any of the fight, Heinrich?"

"Ja. It was incredible. But first you must save him."

Stefan nodded. "Then you must tell us all what happened."

Heinrich stood by the door, watching the area. Straining his ears, he thought he could hear the pounding of paws on snow yet no one appeared. He watched patiently, grinning from time to time as his gaze fell on Han's mangled corpse. I_ am glad you suffered. _He looked over his shoulder where Stefan worked on Newkirk. _You need to live. To rub it in Lisel's face that you defeated that swine. __She will regret the fact she ever changed you, accident or no._

He looked back to the trees and stiffened. A black wolf sniffed Han's corpse, smaller than Heinrich and he recognized the French werewolf. LeBeau turned and then sniffed across to where Newkirk had collapsed. Heinrich whistled and LeBeau lunged aside, ears swiveling and nostrils flaring. Then he raced towards Heinrich. "Your Corporal is hurt. Stefan is working on him now," Heinrich said.

The wolf looked around and Heinrich held out an old blanket he'd found. LeBeau shifted, grabbing the blanket. "Is he badly hurt?"

Heinrich nodded. "Very. But Stefan is a very good doctor."

LeBeau's eyes widened. "Stefan is a doctor?"

"Ja. "

LeBeau peered around Heinrich. "Will he live?"

"Not if Han's pack gets here before yours or ours," Stefan said from where he worked. "And I need a blood donor."

"I will call the others," LeBeau said.

"Know that any howl you make will draw Lisel and her pack," Heinrich said.

"I will have to take that chance." LeBeau winced as Stefan swore softly in Russian.

He shifted and walked outside. There he tossed back his head and howled, three short howls. He then stood waiting.

Almost instantly, a mahogany shape and a black one streaked into view. LeBeau wagged his tail. Goliath and Elsa stopped beside LeBeau, sniffing the air. Heinrich walked forward. "He is still alive," he said. All the wolves looked at him. "Are you his blood type, Goliath?" Goliath shook his head. LeBeau stared at Heinrich, ears cupped forward. He gave a puzzled whrrr deep in his throat. Heinrich looked at him. "Oh! With as much as James visits Elsa, of course we know his wolf name." LeBeau tilted his ears back and forth. Then he spun, quivering. Joker and Ghost flew towards them, Ghost in front.

Ghost slid to a stop in front of Heinrich, shifted to Hogan. "What happened?" he demanded.

"He won," Heinrich said. "But he is close to death. Are you his blood type, Colonel?"

"Yes. And Carter here as well. Stefan is a surgeon?"

"Yes," Stefan called. "Come here, Colonel. I need blood."

"What are you doing?" Hogan asked.

"Putting Newkirk's stomach back inside his body," Stefan snapped. "Heinrich, help him. Elsa, watch for Lisel. She can't be far."

Heinrich handed Hogan the blanket and pulled tubing and needles from the bag. "We will do a direct transfer?" he asked.

"Da."

Hogan watched nervously as Stefan's deft fingers slid a needle into Whisper's foreleg. "It's bad," Hogan said.

"Da. But Heinrich was worse if that makes you feel better."

Heinrich shrugged as he slid a needle into Hogan's vein. Blood began flowing between Hogan and Newkirk. Hogan glanced at him.

"Hans was harsh," Heinrich said. He removed his robe. Hogan inadverently inhaled. Jagged scars crisscrossed Heinrich's body, clear bite and fang marks evident in many spots. Scar tissue filled in where hunks of flesh had been literally ripped out. Hogan looked in Heinrich's clear blue eyes.

"They tried to tear you apart," Hogan said numbly. A low whine came from the door where Joker stood. Heinrich nodded and pulled on the robe.

"Lisel on one side, Heinrich on the other. Anna tried to sever my tail. They are not nice people."

"But you survived."

"Stefan saved me."

Hogan glanced at Stefan. "You never said you were a doctor."

"You did not ask, Colonel. I am a doctor. Elsa knows mechanics and poker. Heinrich likes to sing. We all have skills. Like you."

Hogan nodded. Stefan worked while the werewolves paced and Hogan watched the blood flow into Newkirk. Stefan finally said "Enough, Heinrich. Bring Carter forward."

Heinrich nodded. Stefan taped off the needle and Heinrich carefully pulled out the needle. "Carter?" Heinrich asked.

The blond wolf hurried forward and looked around. Hogan sighed.

"Do you have another blanket?"

Heinrich blinked. "I have a towel," he said. "Hold on." He dug in the bag, removed a thin towel. Hogan took it, wrapped it around his waist, and tossed the blanket over Joker. Carter shifted and held out his arm.

A sharp bark. Hogan turned his head. Elsa stared at the treeline, her ears flicking. Heinrich swallowed hard. "They're coming."

"Take care of Newkirk," Hogan said. "Carter stay here. Give blood. Elsa, are you with us?"

Elsa whoofed, tossed her head. Heinrich set up the needle and then handed Hogan his robe as he shifted. "I will work on Newkirk. Wind will go with you," Stefan said. "Sergeant Carter, tell me if you feel lightheaded."

"OK."

Hogan pulled on the robe as a shriek ripped through the air.


	31. Chapter 31

Hogan hurried outside, wishing he wore more than a thin robe. The others stood next to him protectively, Goliath and Elsa on his right, Flicker and Wind on his left. Lisel, in human form, held Hans's corpse close to her, sobbing and stoking the blood encrusted fur. Around her, her pack swirled, hackles raised and growling. The only dark wolf of the pack-Anna, Hogan recalled-whirled, fangs bared. Lisel looked over, stood, seemingly not minding her nudity or the bitter cold. "How?" she demanded. "There is no possible way that-Corporal-could have beat Hans. Not fairly."

"He did. He won. You need to go, Lisel," Hogan said. Beside him, Elsa and Wind both glanced at him sharply. "Newkirk won."

Lisel gave a sharp laugh. "Where is the brave winner?"

Hogan shrugged. "Hans fought hard. Newkirk is being stitched."

Lisel stepped forward and Wind snarled loudly. Anna leaped in front of Lisel, echoing Wind. "So Newkirk changed you, Colonel. And a few others, I see. I wondered whose scents ran all over the woods. I'm surprised you haven't escaped, Colonel."

"We stayed for the ski season."

One of the huge males, Guntar, Hogan suspected, growled and began pacing forward. Goliath stepped forward as well. "Leave," Hogan ordered. "Protocol, isn't it? Pack leader battle means the winner rules and the losing pack can move on in peace."

"Very true, Colonel. And just how did you learn that?" Lisel's fingers dug in Anna's ruff.

"I read the werewolf handbook after I was turned." Hogan kept his gaze on Lisel but also listened to the pacing Wind.

"Smart. As a werewolf leader, however, I can challenge Newkirk."

Hogan's heart sank. "When's he's well, true," he said lightly, well aware of his pack stiffening.

"Let me see him, Colonel."

Wind's growl dropped an octave. "Visiting hours are over for the night," Hogan said.

"Just who did Newkirk change, Colonel? And where ever did he find a woman desperate enough to join his pack?"

"You'll have to ask him later."

Lisel smiled. "I will. Or perhaps the Gestapo will."

Hogan lunged to grab Flicker's ruff. "They'd be interested in talking to you as well," he said. Flicker vibrated under his hands, growling.

"We are not afraid of the Gestapo," Lisel said.

"They'll put you in Dauchau just as fast as they would us."

Ears quivered and heads raised. Lisel looked honestly shocked and horrified. Then she wheeled, staring into the dark. With a swirl, she altered into wolf form and then fled,

Hogan stared and then, as Anna suddenly somersaulted, and flopped onto her side, he realized someone was shooting. Guntar collapsed next, head exploding in a spray of bone and blood. Hogan pivoted on his heel. "Inside," he ordered.

To his surprise, Wind bolted away from the barn. Elsa raced after him and Goliath followed. "No!" Hogan shouted as Jenna went down. Hogan realized he wasn't hearing shots-just faint clicks. Suppressor, he though. A high power sniper rifle with a suppressor. Goliath turned at his yell and came back, trembling as he pressed against Hogan's legs. Elsa and Wind continued, curving around the bodies. Lisel twisted and darted back towards Hogan and the barn. Erich followed her. Both Elsa and Wind stepped in front of them, wind driving his smaller, lighter frame into Erich, shoving the wolf towards the struggling Jenna.

A black garbed figure stepped from the woods, rifle raised. From the barn's doorway, Hogan watched as Wind pushed Erich again, then danced aside as Erich's chest opened in a gout of blood. Erich fell and Wind raced forward towards the hunter. At the last minute, he veered and fell in beside the man, tail waving.

Elsa and Lisel rolled in the snow, fangs slashing. Elsa bit and tore, hopped aside, then lunged again. The human ignored them, headed for the barn. As he passed the dying Jenna and Erich, he took aim and carefully shot each one between the eyes. Hogan inhaled. Then the man looked at the barn. "It is I, Colonel," a familiar voice called. "Do not shoot."

Hogan trembled as if doused with ice water. Goliath gave a snorted, choking sound. Gregori walked closer and Hogan inhaled. Wind darted into the fray with Elsa and bit into Lisel's unprotected flank. Gregori walked into the barn. Hogan shoved Flicker behind him, gestured to Goliath who stepped close. "Colonel, I have no intention of hurting you or your pack," Gregori sighed.

"You just murdered four people. Forgive me if I don't quite trust you," Hogan snapped. Gregori put his rifle down, dropped a large bag on the table. "Who are you?"

"I am Gregori," Gregori said. "Just as I have told you. And I have no pity for Hans and his pack. I have waited a long time for this. When Kinch brought us word and when Heinrich caught scent of Hans and then Newkirk, he knew this was our chance."

"To murder?"

"Fair retribution for what they did to Heinrich, his first pack, and for Sasha," Gregori said.

"What are you talking about? Hogan demanded.

"And where did you learn to shoot like that?" LeBeau peered out from behind Hogan, wrapping the blanket around him. Joker stepped out, head twisting quizzically.

"He's a sharpshooter," Hogan said, grim certainty unfolding in his veins. "NKGB?"*

Gregori lifted an eyebrow. "You know us," he said, opening his bag and pulling out tight rolls of clothing. "I was. Once. You will find, Colonel, love makes traitors of us all."

"My men don't murder."

"And when those trains blow up, do you think no one dies?"

Hogan's fists clenched and Goliath growled.

"Take it outside," a harsh voice snapped. Gregori and Hogan looked at Stefan. "I have enough to do keeping this man alive without your pissing contest interfering!"

"How is he?" Hogan demanded.

"Alive. I can move him when I'm done wrapping the wounds. Gregori, is a car nearby?"

"Yes. Colonel, come with us. I will explain further. Here are clothes," Gregori said.

Hogan reluctantly dressed as did the others. Kinch smelled of dismay and worry and from the front of the barn, the horrid sounds of a snarling wolf fight kept echoing. Stefan stepped away from a bandage swathed Whisper, wiped his hands on a wet towel. Carter moved over, swallowed hard at the stitched wound that ran from Whisper's ear to his eye. He stroked Whisper's muzzle. "He isn't awake," Carter said.

"I gave him a sedative. He's breathing, Carter. And he's strong." Stefan gently pushed up one of Whisper's eyelids. "We'll have to carry him. Is there a blanket we can use?"

"We can carry him," Hogan said.

"The truck is not far," Gregori said.

"We can take him back to camp," Carter said.

"I'm not done with him," Stefan said. "I've taken care of much of the damage but not all. And how will you explain an enormous wolf?" He placed a hand on Newkirk's head. "He's stable but he is still at risk."

"What is that smell?" LeBeau demanded.

"What smell?" Hogan asked.

"That bitter smell," LeBeau said. Hogan breathed in. Yes, an acrid smell filled the air as Whisper was placed on the blanket. Stefan smiled, lifted one of Whisper's forepaws.

"Plant matter. I think the locals call it burning nettle."

Gregori laughed. "Clever indeed! He coats his paws with it and if he hit Hans at all with his claws, Hans' eyes would burn."

"Is Elsa done?" Kinch asked.

Gregori looked out the door. "Almost," he said. "Come. We will leave them to clean up."

"What will they do?" Kinch demanded.

Gregori smiled. "Destroy the evidence."

Hogan gestured and his men took up the "stretcher". Gregori led the way, ignoring Wind and Elsa who ripped at a blond corpse. Kinch looked over then away, swallowing hard as Elsa bounced over, blood splattered freely over her muzzle and chest. She rubbed against his leg and he flinched. "Go take care of the bodies," Gregori said. Elsa whoofed and leaped away after nudging Kinch's hand.

The truck wasn't far and Stefan climbed in the back. He held out his arms and helped brace Whisper. Whisper whimpered, opened his eyes briefly, and then cried out in pain. Carter leaped in, cradled Whisper. LeBeau and Kinch climbed in as well. Gregori looked at the Colonel.

In the cab, Hogan watched Gregori. "I will explain, Colonel," Gregori sighed.

"Did you set this up, tell Newkirk they were here?"

"Me? Your second did this himself, Colonel, do not blame me or mine for this!"

Hogan bit back his rage and said nothing. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "Newkirk has always been headstrong. He chose this way himself."

"He is stubborn, Colonel. Most werewolves are."

Hogan glanced over his shoulder. "Do you think he'll be all right?"

"We can hope. I will try to find pencillin."

"Can you get that?"

"We can try. We steal from the Germans who steal from the British." Gregori sighed. "Colonel, did you think I was an idiot? Of course we know you are not regular prisoners."

"Did you plan this?" Hogan asked, trying to keep himself from growling.

"No. I hardly planned for Lisel to turn Newkirk. And had I known, I would have been here much sooner, to adopt him into my pack."

Hogan didn't bite back the growl now. "He's mine," he said. "One of _my_ pack."

"You have made that clear," Gregori dryly said.

He carefully drove to their small house. Hogan glanced at his watch. Five hours until roll call. Plenty of time for answers. He helped carry Whisper into the house, dismayed to hear pitiful cries from Whisper's throat. The men tried to be careful but some jostling was inevitable and Whisper cried out in pain more then once. In a small room, perhaps once a bedroom, Stefan had Whisper laid on a operating table. "Shift if you can," Stefan said to Whisper. Whisper merely closed his eyes, gasping. Stefan tapped his nose and Whisper bared his teeth, weakly weaving his head. "Shift," Stefan said.

"He has no reason to listen to you," LeBeau said, laying a hand on Whisper's flank. "He is too hurt."

"It starts the healing process. Besides, you can not take a wolf into camp."

"Let me try," Carter said.

"It should be me," Hogan said. "Give me some time."

The men left. Hogan took Whisper's head and lightly tapped his nose. "Peter," he said clearly. "Shift." Whisper feebly pulled away. "Damn it. Whisper, change." Whisper closed his eyes, breathed hard. "I didn't want to do this," Hogan muttered. "Hell." He stripped, shifted, and laid next to Whisper. Ghost nudged Whisper, tugged an ear gently, and shifted. Several times Hogan shifted and finally, with yips and the slowest shift Hogan had ever seen, Whisper changed. Newkirk's fingers scrabbled on the metal table. Hogan grabbed Newkirk's hand. "It'll be all right," he said. Newkirk's dull eyes rolled to him. "Listen,"Hogan said, unconciously tightening his grip. "You live, do you hear me? You have to live. And that's an order Corporal." Newkirk exhaled and the dull eyes brightened slightly. "You live," Hogan repeated. Hogan picked up his shirt, dressed hastily. "Stefan," he called. His mouth dried. Without Whisper's thick fur, there was no hiding the hideous wounds. It appeared Newkirk was held together by black stitching and bandages.

Stefan entered. "Good. Let me finish up here."

"Will he live?" Hogan whispered. His gaze traced two long slashes down Newkirk's throat. "God, he's a mess."

"He is. These scars will be permanent."

Hogan gingerly touched a huge L shaped mark on Newkirk's hip. "What is this?" he whispered.

"Hans tried to rip out a large hunk of flesh. Nearly succeeded." Stefan touched Newkirk's chest. "He looks nearly as bad as Heinrich did." Gently he rolled Newkirk over and Hogan whistled. Deep fangmarks were on each side of Newkirk's upper spine. "Hans tried to snap his spine. You are lucky, Newkirk. Now, Colonel. I must finish up. Some wounds need better stitching and I can take my time here. Also, I think you need to discuss things with Gregori."

"Are you NKGB as well?" Hogan asked bitterly.

Stefan laughed. "_Nyet_. That was Sasha and Gregori."

Newkirk moaned and Stefan bent over him. Hogan silently left. In the living room, his men clustered together, watching Gregori who poured wine into glasses. "Care to explain now?" Hogan asked.

"Has he shifted?" Carter blurted.

"Yes." Hogan sat down. "Now what?"

"Sit, gentleman." Gregori handed out the wine. "Yes, Colonel, I happily killed Hans and his pack. They tore apart Heinrich. And it was Lisel who killed my Sasha, shot her in the street and left her to die. I left my country to hunt them. I should go back further. We found Heinrich in Germany 8 years ago when we were visiting friends. While tensions were high, we traveled easily enough. After all, Sasha and Elsa spoke fluent German and Stefan and I was passable, he far more than me. On a run through the Black Forest one night, Sasha drove off Lisel while Stefan and I pushed Hans away. In that small clearing, we found Heinrich and the remains of his pack. Stefan saved him by surgery and we all spent hours with him while he recovered. By the time he healed, he was our son. He joined us in Russia. We were happy until Sasha was murdered in the street."

Gregori stared at the wall. "Sasha was lovely. Elsa reminds me of her mother more every day. Sasha could track and run day, catch an enemy, and dance away the night. She was a far better agent than me. And when she died, I knew I'd do anything to slaughter the people who killed her. And if that means using your pack, Colonel, I knew I would. We had word of Hans from an old friend of ours. So we headed here. "

"And found Newkirk," LeBeau said.

"Yes, LeBeau. I hoped to adopt him into our pack. I knew Hans would return. And werewolves need a pack. I knew we would help each other. I did not expect him to already have a pack. I also did not expect him to change his friends. Tonight, Heinrich came racing, told us he'd scented Newkirk and Hans. It was our chance."

"You murdered them," Kinch said hollowly.

"This is war. I no more murdered them than any soldier murders the enemy."

"And Heinrich and Elsa?" LeBeau asked,

"Lisel killed their mother," Gregori said.

"She wasn't Heinrich's mother," Carter said. "Not really."

"She was the closest to a mother they had. She and I raised Stefan, Elsa, and later Heinrich. And I love my sons as much as I love my daughter. Just as you men love Newkirk. Why did you come here? Why worry over Newkirk?"

"He's our friend," Kinch said. "Our packmate."

"Yeah," Carter said.

"And now what?" Hogan said.

Gregori laughed. "We are allies, Colonel! I have no fights with you or your men. Besides, it is due to Newkirk that there is finally justice for my wife."

"And now he's dying," Carter said.

"Stefan will do his best. And the Englishman is tough."

Hogan felt his men turning to him. "Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan studied Gregori. "You didn't set this up. But I don't trust you. You have your country to report to and so do I."

"I am former NKGB," Gregori said. "I love my country but I have someone I love more." He smiled sadly. "You will all find yourselves in that position sooner or later."

"I don't understand." Carter said. Gregori looked at him.

"I love my daughter," he said softly. "And she cares for someone. I would not have chosen you for her, James, but it is not my decision. And her choice means I can not return to my home."

"Because I'm black," Kinch said bitterly.

Gregori smelled of confusion. "What has your color to do with this?"

"It's because you are American, Kinch," Hogan said.

"So?" LeBeau said as Gregori nodded.

"When this war ends, LeBeau, it will be between us and the United States," Gregori said.

Hogan again felt his men looking at him. "Colonel?" LeBeau asked softly.

"Things are tense," Hogan admitted. "And yes, I can see the tensions rising between the USSR and the US."

"So you see, James, having a daughter who cares for an American would be problematic at best," Gregori said. "Just as Colonel Hogan will find your Russian woman a problem."

"Why will that matter?" Kinch demanded.

"You do not think you will return to the US with my daughter,do you?" Gregori said. "A Russian woman? And bringing along a Frenchman and an Englishman as well ? And what about my pack? We would not let Elsa go far."

Kinch's eyes were rimmed with white. Hogan stood up, laid a hand on Kinch's shoulder. "We'll figure it out."

"There is nothing to figure out, Colonel," Gregori said. "You have a pack. Did you think this would be something you could walk away from?"

A/N

* NKGB (People's Commissariat for State Security)**-**one of the predecessors to the KGB.


	32. Chapter 32

Hogan breathed in, smelt worry, anxiety pouring in from his pack. "I will take care of my men," he said, not hiding the growl in his voice. "Now and the future."

Gregori nodded. "Good." The two men stared at each other until Carter coughed.

"I thought you mentioned people leave the pack to form their own," Kinch said.

"I did. I also mentioned that they rarely go far. I know of packs who have four generations in the same house. And aristocratic packs often do the same, sharing an ancestral home. A werewolf leaving his or her pack may settle less than a mile away from their pack. "

"So you better like your in laws," Hogan said dryly.

Gregori flashed a cold smile. The door opened and Wind and Elsa entered. Hogan briefly wondered what Elsa's wolf name was as the mahogany wolf walked over to Kinch and laid her head on his knee. Kinch stiffened and Elsa twitched her ears. She drew away, smelling of hurt and distress and then walked off. Gregori's jaw muscles jerked but he said nothing, just gave Kinch a steady, hard look. Wind darted away, came back as Heinrich in loose trousers and a baggy shirt. "We took care of everything," Heinrich said.

"In what way?" Hogan asked. "There are going to be questions. A SS assassin team has just vanished."

"We put the corpses in a car and blew it up," Heinrich said. "Do not worry, Colonel."

"You saw them fight?" Gregori asked. "Tell me, Heinrich, how did he win?"

Heinrich smiled, his eyes glowing. "It was incredible, Gregori," he said excitedly. "As you know, Hans was a fighter. I thought Newkirk could never win. But he did so many odd things."

"Like what?" Carter asked.

"He ran but not as if running away, not really. He would run, turn, slash, and then run again. I did not understand what he was doing, at first. Not until he shoved Hans into a thorn bush."

Carter looked at Heinrich. "I don't understand," he said.

"He drove Hans. Every place he ran to, there was a bush or a tree or a rock. He continually pushed him into something. And he always bit and darted away. Until he came to a hollow where they really fought."

Heinrich looked at Hogan. "I still can not believe how he won-Hans was brutal. Had I not watched-" He shook his head. "They tore into each other. Teeth, claws, body slams. Newkirk is good but Hans was always a superb fighter. Both were bloody and I could see bone occasionally when Newkirk moved. Hans put Newkirk down on the ground, fangs in his shoulder. And then Newkirk shifted, Colonel. He wrapped his arms and legs around Hans and dug his fingers into Hans's muzzle, shoving Hans off him. And then he shifted again. And rolled Hans. And then he clamped his teeth in Hans's throat."

"He tore out his throat," LeBeau said faintly.

Heinrich smiled, a smile that made Hogan's blood run cold. "It was glorious," Heinrich said. "My only regret is Lisel did not live long enough for Newkirk to gloat over Hans's death." Hogan shot Heinrich another look. The young man had always seemed easygoing and gentle. Yet Heinrich's eyes gleamed with bloodlust. "I hope he lives," Heinrich added. "I owe him a favor."

"Newkirk isn't a killer," Carter said.

"Why do you fret so?" Heinrich asked. "He won. Killing Hans was no crime. He saved all of you-and us too."

"He tore out someone's throat," LeBeau said.

"It was kill or be killed." Heinrich smiled again. "And he stopped Hans and his pack from killing us all. Besides, he obviously planned for this."

Hogan jerked. "What?"

"He knew exactly what he was doing. He used the landscape against Hans, every trick he could. This was not someone who just decided to attack." Heinrich sounded sure.

Hogan tried to bury the grim despair and anger roiling in his stomach. Heinrich had to be correct and that meant Newkirk had always planned on challenging Hans. the big question was Why? Why on earth had Newkirk done such a thing? Hogan instinctively knew there was something more to this than just Newkirk wanting to protect the pack. Now he just wanted to know what that was.

A soft step and Elsa stepped into the room, dressed in a white loose shirt and black slacks, smelling of soap and shampoo. "Father, Stefan wanted to say he will be another hour or so. Newkirk is doing all right." Her gaze switched to Hogan. "We can bring Newkirk back later today. We can claim we found him, attacked by the neighbor's dogs."

Hogan hated to leave Newkirk but Elsa's idea was smart. "That makes sense. Will he be able to be moved?"

"Stefan thinks it would be all right. We will drive carefully. At the stalag, Stefan can give him more blood, if you can find donors." Elsa smiled at Hogan. "I am sure you will find volunteers."

Hogan smiled back instinctively. _She is lovely. _The flash of anger scent made him turn to Kinch and Elsa coolly walked away, saying over her shoulder, "He is very strong, your Newkirk. We will take excellent care of him."

"We should stay," LeBeau said. "What if he needs us?"

"We need to be back at the Stalag." Hogan fingered the shirt he wore. With a swift move, he pulled it off. "Give this to Newkirk, would you Gregori?"

"Of course."

"Men, let's go tell Newkirk goodbye first. we'll tell him we'll see him soon. I know Stefan is probably working on him but we'll do it anyway."

Stefan, indeed, was stitching Newkirk's arm. "We just came to tell him we'll see him later," Carter said.

"All right. He is unconscious, so do not expect much."

All the men laid a hand on Newkirk. "Take care, buddy," Carter said awkwardly. "We need you."

"Oui. Who else knows the woods like you?" LeBeau said. "Hurry back."

He patted Newkirk's shoulder.

"You did good," Kinch said. "Scary good, Peter."

Hogan went last, leaning down to murmur in Newkirk's ear. "You're under orders, old boy. You can't die. Now hurry back." He caressed Newkirk's neck.

As the pack ran through the snow, Ghost found himself only superficially paying attention to his pack. Most of his mind focused on trying to understand Newkirk's actions. He darted into the thicket, listening as his men trotted in behind him. Ghost skidded to a halt when Wilson came into view. Wilson jumped.

"Jesus," he swore. "Colonel?"

Ghost nodded and shifted. "Why are you here Wilson?"

"I have been waiting. I thought Newkirk might need me. Where is he?"

"Being operated on." Hogan pulled on clothes and washed his feet and hands. The others followed suit.

"What can I do?" Wilson asked. "And where did you get a doctor?"

"We'll need blood donors. Newkirk's blood type. And we know a pack doctor," Hogan said. "He'll be in later this morning."

"All right," Wilson said. "How bad is he?"

"He's alive so far. Kinch, contact London. See if they know anything about a Gregori Koslov. NKGB."

"Yes, sir." Kinch dressed hastily.

"Who are the NKGB?" Carter asked.

"Soviet state police," Hogan said grimly.

Kinch stiffened and LeBeau swallowed hard.

"But they're our allies," Carter said.

"They're still Communists," Kinch said.

"Elsa?" Wilson said. "Are you kidding?"

"Her father," Hogan said. Kinch left for the radio room. Hogan looked at Carter and LeBeau. "Get some sleep, guys."

"It'll be hard to sleep," Carter said.

"Try," Hogan sighed. Both LeBeau and Carter left, each brushing Hogan's skin as they left. "Get some sleep, Wilson. Line up volunteers after roll call."

"Yes, sir." Wilson started to leave then turned.

"Go," Hogan said. "I just need to think a minute, Wilson."

"Yes, sir."

Alone, Hogan sighed and stretched. _ Now what? Damn it, Newkirk, why did you do this? What the hell were you thinking? _He sat that way a long time, turning only when Kinch entered. "No word yet, sir," Kinch said.

"Thanks," Hogan said. He looked at Kinch. "You're worried."

"Colonel, my family-they would never accept a white woman." Kinch rubbed his head. "And they wouldn't accept what I am now. I don't regret it, sir, but what will we do? I mean, I'm finally understanding this. You and I and Newkirk and Carter and LeBeau are bound together. What will we do after the war?"

Hogan laid a hand on Kinch's arm. "I'm working on a plan. Don't worry yet, OK?"

"And she's Russian." Kinch bit his lip. "Gregori is right. We don't get along with them. And that doesn't touch the scene tonight. She tore Lisel apart. With her _teeth_!"

"James," Hogan softly said. "Do you love her?"

Kinch looked miserable. "God help me, Rob, I do."

Hogan draped an arm over Kinch's shoulders. "Then you need to decide what you want."

"I'll be giving up everything I have."

"And what will you gain?"

Kinch swallowed. "Everything I want."

Hogan smiled. "Well, then, you have a lot to think about. But, look, get some sleep. No decisions have to be made tonight."

"Thanks." Kinch smiled. "That makes sense." He titled his head. "And you need to relax, sir. Newkirk had to have a reason."

"I know," Hogan sighed. "More than protecting us. I just need to know what it is."


	33. Chapter 33

As Schultz yelled his wake up call, Hogan hurried out of his quarters. "Let them know Newkirk is missing," he ordered.

"What happened to him?" Mills said.

"Attacked by dogs," Hogan said.

"Again?" Parks asked. "What is it with him and dogs?"

Hogan tilted his head then remembered. When he'd won leadership from Newkirk, they'd claimed then that he and Newkirk had been attacked by dogs. "It's bad," Hogan said. "But he's being treated."

Schultz stammered through his report and Klink stomped his boot. "Raise the alarm! Hogan, I blame you!"

"Kommandant, I protest. This was a complete surprise. Newkirk didn't inform the escape committee," Hogan said.

"Insolence! Schultz, release the dogs!"

Hogan leaned against the wall of the barracks. LeBeau, Carter, and Kinch sat on the bench near him. "Do you think he's OK?" Carter asked.

"I hope," Hogan said. He absently touched LeBeau's shoulder. The Frenchman leaned into him and Hogan squeezed. The worried pack smelled of nervousness and weariness as well as grief.

"I am going to ask him why he did not get us," LeBeau said angrily. "Pierre is an imbecile!"

"That's true," Kinch said.

"What about after the war?" Carter asked. "What do we do?"

"I'm working on it," Hogan said. His men all looked curiously at him.

"We can all stay in France," LeBeau offered.

"I always thought Canada," Carter said. The other three looked at him.

"Canada?" Hogan echoed.

"Sure. I mean, Canada's near the US for us," Carter said. "And it's connected to England for Peter. And for you, Louis, there's Quebec. So all of us would be kind of at home in Canada."

Hogan blinked. All the men exchanged surprised looks. "It makes sense," Kinch said slowly. "Really. Damn, Andrew. I'm impressed."

"_Moi, aussi."_

"Good work," Hogan said. "Really, Carter. That makes a lot of sense."

"Thanks," Carter said, obviously pleased. "I appreciate it."

They waited until early afternoon, each one counting the minutes. LeBeau finally straightened up. "It is Gregori's truck," he said.

It was Elsa who hopped out of the truck when it rumbled to a stop in front of the office. "Wilhelm!" she exclaimed joyously as Klink stomped out of his office. Klink halted in surprise.

"Fraulien!"

Elsa smiled. "I have found something you lost," she said. She gestured to Stefan who had emerged from the truck. "This is Stefan, my brother. He is a doctor."

"What a pleasure, fraulien. How can I help you?" Klink asked.

Elsa laid a graceful hand on Klink's arm. "We have found an Englishman near our home. He was saved by Stefan here. He'd been attacked by our neighbor's dogs. Can you help me, Wilhelm?"

"Of course," Klink boasted. "Let me see the prisoner."

Hogan felt Kinch move more than heard him. "Kinch, no," Hogan hissed. Kinch smelled of rage but he controlled himself.

Carter pressed close to Kinch and LeBeau muttered "She is not serious, mon ami."

Stefan and several guards brought the stretcher from the back of the truck. Klink's face lit up. "Do you know him?" Elsa asked.

"He is one of my prisoners who attempted to escape. He looks terrible!"

"I believe he will survive," Stefan said. "It will take time. Do you have an infirmary?"

"Of course! This way, doctor!" Klink led the way to the infirmary, talking to Elsa all the while. When he wrapped his arm around her waist, Carter grabbed Kinch who growled loudly.

"Kinch!" Hogan snapped. Kinch looked at him, his eyes reflecting light. "I think you have an answer. Think about that."

Kinch exhaled loudly but nodded. Hogan headed for the infirmary. He entered, wincing at sickly pallor of Newkirk's skin. "Hogan what are you doing here?" Klink demanded.

"I heard my man was back." Hogan swallowed hard. "He looks bad."

"He could use some blood," Stefan said. "I am his doctor. Who are you, sir?"

"This is Colonel Hogan, senior POW," Klink said. "This is Dr. Wolfmeier, Hogan."

"And the fraulien?" Hogan smiled, secretly flattered when Elsa smiled wildly.

"Elsa Wolfmeier," Klink said, tightening his grip on Elsa's arm.

Hogan walked to Newkirk, noting Newkirk wore his shirt. Newkirk weakly opened his eyes as he neared. "Hello, Newkirk," Hogan said.

"Hey," Newkirk whispered.

"He is on painkillers. With your permission, Kommandant, I would like to return to keep an eye on him. Prisoner or not, he is my patient," Stefan said.

"If you bring your lovely sister, you may visit as often as like," Klink said, kissing Elsa's hand.

"Thank you," Elsa said. "Your work fascinates me, Kommandant."

Hogan's nose told him what his eyes could not-that Elsa did not like Klink and neither did Stefan. Elsa's smile shone as she flirted lightly. "I'll line up blood donors," Hogan said.

"Do that," Klink said.

Hogan stepped aside and gestured. Wilson hurried over, followed by several men. Wilson and Stefan hastily set up an IV and Wilson began drawing blood.

Stefan stepped close to Hogan. "He seems stable," he whispered. "Have someone stay with him." Hogan nodded. Stefan flashed his teeth. "Tell James I protect my sister."

Hogan gave a quick nod. He listened as Stefan gave Wilson directions and then Elsa and Stefan left with Klink and Hogan turned to Newkirk. The Englishman breathed harshly and Hogan glanced at Wilson.

"I'll check him out ASAP," Wilson promised. Hogan nodded. He sat next to Newkirk, grasped Newkirk's fingers. He squeezed and Newkirk feebly squeezed back.

For hours, someone in the pack sat beside Newkirk. Newkirk occasionally spoke, reassured Carter he was all right, told LeBeau he'd love some steak, and agreed with Kinch that, yes, he was an idiot.

In the wee morning hours, Ghost ran alone through the woods. He reveled in his solitary play, enjoying the absence of responsibility, no matter how brief. In the slight moonlight and deep cold, he raced through the snow. Here he could think and ponder. When another wolf trotted towards him, he stopped resentfully then lifted his head. Elsa fell in beside him. Silently the two ran through the woods. When they came to a fallen tree, Elsa hopped on it, shifted. "I hope you found what you were looking for, Colonel," she said. Then she shifted again and raced off. Ghost thoughtfully loped back to camp. In the tunnel, he shifted and dressed. Hastily he made his way to the infirmary, sending Kinch back to the barracks for rest.

"He needs his painkillers," Kinch said.

"I'll give them to him. Get some sleep."

Kinch's nostrils twitched but he said nothing, perhaps sensing Hogan's roiling emotions. Hogan settled beside Newkirk, laid his hand on top of Newkirk's bony fingers. For long minutes, he listened to Newkirk breathe and let out occasional whimpers. When Newkirk opened his eyes, Hogan gazed at his beleaguered second. "How are you doing?" Hogan asked softly.

"Alive. Hurt. I feel. Like a lorry. Ran me over." Newkirk stretched slightly then yelped. "God!"

"Bad?"

"More than words can say," Newkirk hissed.

"Good."

Newkirk jerked as his commander and pack leader leaned over him, eyes glinting. "I want it to hurt," Hogan snarled as he leaned close. "I want it to burn with every fucking breath. I want you to_ ache_, Peter. I want you to scream with pain, remember this moment forever." Hogan's breath flowed over Newkirk's cheek, his teeth elongating. "I want you to look at these scars every time you dress and I want it seared in your memory. Because if you ever think, ever dream, even allow a _wisp_ of a thought of doing anything like this again, I will make this day and what Hans did seem like a picnic. Is that clear?" His teeth shone.

Peter inhaled. "Perfectly. Sir." He felt his stomach clench as Hogan's scent washed over him. Hogan leaned closer, breathed slowly and steadily over Newkirk's face. Newkirk trembled and Hogan inhaled as if drinking in his subordinate's fear and pain. Hogan stared at Newkirk and Newkirk swallowed, looking away.

"Good." Hogan withdrew slightly but his hand came up and he laid it along Newkirk's cheek. "Remember that," Hogan said, voice softening. His voice trembled. "Damn it, Peter..."

Newkirk weakly grabbed Hogan's hand. "I'll be all right. I had to."

Hogan frowned. "Later," he said. He reached out, swabbed Newkirk's arm and injected it. "Morphine. It'll help."

"Thanks."

Hogan kept a hand on Newkirk continually as the Brit slumbered. The yells for roll call didn't make him move. He simply listened as Newkirk's breathing eased and he thought. When LeBeau relieved him, he headed for the barracks. "Carter, Kinch with me," he said after he told Mills Newkirk was better. His two packmates eagerly came to him. In the privacy of his quarters, Hogan asked both men several questions about Newkirk. LeBeau hurried in, glancing at Colonel Hogan. "Louis?" Hogan asked.

"What did you say to Pierre, mon Colonel? I was telling him how stupid he had been and he said you had already given him that speech. And he smelled a bit frightened. I asked him what he expected, that of course we were angry, and he simply said he hadn't expected to be here. And then he said nothing." LeBeau studied his pack leader who gazed thoughtfully at the wall.

"Interesting," Hogan murmured.

"What?" kinch asked.

"He didn't plan on surviving," Hogan murmured. "But he planned on winning... That makes no sense."

"Maybe he just thought of both outcomes," Carter said. "He always kind of worries."

Hogan shot Carter a sharp look then nodded. "Let's get the chores done," Hogan said. "Carter, go sit with Peter. Let's get him well again."

That night, Parks woke with a jolt. Carter was heading for the Colonel's quarters. "Carter?" he asked.

"Nothing," Carter hissed. "Go to sleep!"

"That's a dog!"

Indeed, several yips and muffled barks came from the Colonel's quarters. Carter frowned. "Maybe it's one of the guard dogs," Mills muttered.

"Why does the Colonel have a guard dog?" Olson asked. "Carter, get out of the way."

"I'll check on him, guys."

Carter slipped inside Hogan's quarters where Ghost slept on Hogan's bottom bunk, making muffled yips and barks. Ghost's paws twitched in his sleep. Carter gently stroked Ghost's ears, tried to untangle the blankets and Hogan's pajamas from Ghost. "It's all right, Ghost," he said softly. The plush fur just below the ears felt like velvet under his fingers, perhaps the softest fur on the wolf's body. Ghost stilled, sleepily opened a large brown eye. "You need to shift," Carter whispered, still petting Ghost's ears.

Ghost snorted. Then both eyes opened and Ghost shook himself, scrambling in his clothes. "Shift," Carter said.

Ghost stilled and then changed. "What is it, Carter?" Hogan mumbled.

"You shifted in your sleep and started to bark."

Hogan blinked. "What?"

"Bark," Carter whispered. "I told the others maybe you had a guard dog in here."

A knock and call of "Carter? Is the Colonel OK?" Olson' s voice demanded.

"Fine," Hogan said groggily. He looked up at Carter. "Kinch and LeBeau?"

"LeBeau is with Newkirk. Kinch is with Baker."

Hogan nodded. He stood up and stumbled to the door, frowning at the new tears in his pajamas. "I'm OK," he said, opening the door. Olson nodded and the men returned to their beds.

"Were you dreaming?" Carter asked.

"Yes," Hogan said absently. "Chasing a white stag around and around a silver leafed tree with gold apples."

"Wow. I usually dream about cake," Carter said.

Hogan laughed. "Go get some sleep, Carter. And thanks." He lightly slapped Carter's shoulder. "I'm going to relieve Louis."

Hogan stepped into the snow, moving swiftly to the infirmary. He relieved LeBeau, sat down beside the slumbering Newkirk. He watched his second sleep restlessly. Newkirk jolted awake sometime later.

"I understand now."

"Gov?"

Hogan gently touched Newkirk's arm. "I understand," Hogan repeated. "I didn't before but do now. You didn't plan on surviving this fight, did you?"

"Hans was a werewolf for all his life," Newkirk said in a reedy voice. "I knew I wouldn't have much chance. But I had to. They wanted me."

"That wasn't the only thing." Hogan sat back in the chair. "I have a younger brother and sister. I grew up in Connecticut. My folks live there still, my sister works as a WAC and my brother in in the Navy. Kinch has three brothers and two sisters. His family is from Detroit, parents both alive. Two of his brothers joined the army. LeBeau has five sisters and four brothers, most of them living on a farm about an hour east of Paris. And Carter has three sisters and a brother, all younger. They live in Indiana, visit North Dakota every summer. I thought about that a lot. I know quite a bit about their families. But never yours. You didn't let any of us know about your family. "

"What's the point of this, gov?"

"You're afraid. I never thought of that but-well, not afraid. You have no faith, Peter."

Newkirk's eyebrows drew together. "I haven't the foggiest idea what you are babbling about, gov."

"The future. After the war. What happens next?"

Newkirk jerked, smelling of terror. "You're daft," he snapped.

Hogan leaned forward, touched Newkirk's hand. "You have no faith," he said quietly. "I get that some. You never did trust much and if you died fighting Hans, you would have done two things. Save us and you'd never have to worry about the future." Newkirk's eyes widened until they were mostly pupil, vast pools of black. Hogan felt compassion well through him. "It'll be all right," Hogan said quietly. "Peter, I promise. We are going to get through this as a pack."

"You don't know that." Newkirk struggled to sit up. "Just what are we going to do? Where are we going? Kinch likes Elsa and we certainly can't stay in the States. Europe 'as to rebuild and the USSR isn't going to love us. LeBeau loves France and...Let's face it, gov, after the war, we're going to go daft."

Hogan looked at him sympathetically. "It took me a while," he said slowly. "I get it, though. Your family shattered years ago and all you have are your sisters. If the first one didn't last, how could the second?"

"You don't know anything," Newkirk snarled.

"I know they left you. You mother and grandmother are dead, your father vanished long ago."

"How did you find that out?" Newkirk's eyes glittered.

"You do have a file, Newkirk. And I am your CO. I've know your past a long time." Hogan sounded slightly exasperated. "That's over. We're family. We're here for you. We're not leaving you or anyone behind."

"Pull the other one, mate. I can already see the cracks."

Hogan grabbed Newkirk's arm. "No," he said firmly. "No. We're family, we're bound. You aren't leaving and neither is anyone else. We may live in different houses but we're a team. To the end. No one is going to be lost." Newkirk began shaking. Hogan reached out, gently squeezed Newkirk's shoulder. "I asked you this once before. You gave me a chance. Peter, trust me again. I _am_ working on this."

"You're asking too much," Newkirk rasped. Yet he looked at Hogan with wary wolf eyes, suspicious yet somehow wanting. As if almost hoping. "What are we going to do?"

"Let me take care of it. That's my job." Hogan bent over, gave Newkirk a half hug. "We're wolves and men, Peter. If we can figure that out, we can figure out anything."

"What about..."

Hogan laid his hand on Newkirk's chest. "Get well. That's all you need to worry about." Newkirk reluctantly laid back down, stared silently at the ceiling. Hogan thought he'd fallen asleep until he heard his name softly uttered.

"Rob?"

"Hmm?"

"You meant what you said, about me remembering what Hans did and you'd do worse."

"I did."

Another long pause. Then, "Thanks."

"Anytime. Get some sleep."

A/N Special thanks to Bluebassist for the great idea!


	34. Chapter 34

LeBeau thoughtfully regarded his packmates as he stitched a uniform. Kinch sat by the radio, Carter played solitare, and Colonel Hogan paced slowly. "Mon colonel," LeBeau finally started. "May I ask what you found out about Pierre?"

Heads lifted and ears almost seemed to prick. "Louis, is this something we should ask?" Carter asked. "I mean, Peter's not here."

"I think we are not sharing enough." LeBeau twitched. "Colonel, I would never think of challenging you. But we all need to know what about each other."

Hogan nodded. "You're right, Louis," he said. "I know everyone is concerned, wondering what is going on. You know Peter is doing all right. He'll heal slowly." He glanced at Kinch. "We all have our privacy and deservedly so but we do need to share some things. So what are your concerns?"

"Why?" LeBeau asked. "Pierre does not explain why he did what he did. I understand he wanted to save us but there are other reasons."

"He is worried about the future," Hogan said.

"And us?" Carter asked. "I mean, heck, that wouldn't surprise me. Newkirk always thought and worried about the future."

"Did you two ever talk about what you were going to do?" Kinch asked.

"No, not really," Carter said. "I think we both kinda assumed we'd travel. And he has sisters and I have sisters, so I'm sure both of us thought maybe we'd find dates."

"With sisters?" LeBeau asked. "I have sisters and so do you, Kinch and the Colonel."

"I don't think my family would be agreeable," Kinch said quietly.

"Gregori said something, Kinch. Love makes traitors of us all. I think I get that," Hogan said. "I was thinking of an international spy ring-of us all working for a coalition of nations or something. Or maybe the US. I think we've earned that right." All the men grinned. "But I will never be the officer I could be fully because of my werewolf side, because my werewolf side will always place you men first."

"That makes you a better officer," LeBeua muttered.

"Like Gregori can't return to his country-because his daughter loves an American and the Russians would never accept that," Carter said. "Got it."

"So country and patriotism falls to family," Kinch said. "That's hard."

"But what else can we do?" Carter said. "We're werewolves, we're family."

"It means we're stuck with each other, for better or worse," Hogan said with a shrug. "I may lead the pack but you guys do have to make your own choices."

"Like you and Elsa, James," LeBeau said. "I mean, if you are no longer interested, I think she is lovely."

Kinch narrowed his eyes and a smell of annoyance rose from him. "I'm trying to figure it out, LeBeau," he said.

"I don't get it," Carter said. "You like her, she likes you. Heck, you're even both werewolves. If you love her, why pass that up?"

Kinch looked at his hands. "It's not that easy, Andrew."

"But maybe not that complicated," Hogan said. "Look, do you guys trust that I'm working on this? That we are going to all be all right?"

"I trust you," LeBeau said. "We will travel all over."

Hogan smiled. He turned suddenly as a scuffling was heard. A bedraggled looking Whisper limped into the room. "What are you doing here?" Hogan blurted.

Whisper lifted his ears and shook himself. A badly scarred Newkirk appeared, the fresh scars bright red and angry looking. "Ol' Wilson and Stefan said it was OK I walked around a bit. 'Urts some but I'm going bloody 'round the bend. 'Sides, sounds like I'm missing a good conversation." Newkirk grabbed a convenient robe.

"Just telling the Colonel we trust him," Carter said. "About the future, I mean."

Hogan looked at Newkirk who gave him an odd smile. "Of course we do, mates. Who else wants the bloody job?" He walked to the coffee pot, poured a large mug and added sugar.

"So you're all right with leaving behind your sisters?" Kinch asked.

"What do you mean, leave behind? God, mates, we're not pack prisoners. After the war, we're footloose and fancy free, we are. We'll see our families."

All the men looked at him thoughtfully. "You're pretty cheery," Kinch said suspiciously.

"I just came to realize that we're going to do this. We win the war, we get the bloody credit we're do, and Bob's your uncle, we're on our way. Sides, ol' Gregori's out there with his pack and I might as well get used to them since they'll be bloody connected to us soon enough."

"Hey," Kinch protested.

"Come on, Kinch, you love her. I know you're concerned but you 'ave to take a chance sometime." He looked at Hogan. "'Sides, I owe all of you an explanation. The gov 'ere twigged it-I knew Hans was coming and i planned for it. I never was going to have you all involved. I knew if I could push Hans, he'd go for me. I figured if anyone would die, it'd be best if it were me." He held up a hand as Carter opened his mouth. "Hang on, Carter, let me finish. I didn't want to see a future with our pack split up."

"We're not splitting up," Kinch said in surprise.

"I'm not used to people sticking around," Newkirk mumbled. He hastily took a sip of coffee.

LeBeau's nostrils and mouth twitched. "We are pack, Pierre. We run together."

"Heck, yeah!" Carter agreed. He hugged Newkirk. "We're family."

Newkirk hugged Carter back. "Can we talk about something else now?" Newkirk asked. Hogan smiled.

"Does anyone else have concerns? I should have addressed this long ago," Hogan asked.

"I'm worried about Elsa," Kinch said. "And her pack. Russians and Americans-we're barely allies..."

"We can't change that," Hogan said. "But we can change their pasts."

"New identities," Newkirk said. "We've done that before."

Kinch looked hopeful. Hogan smiled. "Anything else?" he asked, glancing at LeBeau and Carter.

"Can we find a French werewolf madamsouille?"

"Later," Hogan sighed.

"Peter, are you going to challenge the Colonel again?" Carter blurted.

Newkirk's eyes widened as did Hogan's. Carter looked painfully earnest. Kinch and LeBeau leaned forward. "Me?" Newkirk asked.

"You were pack leader and you do have fighting skills," Carter pointed out. "Hans proved that."

The scent of fear filled the room. Newkirk blinked, glanced at Hogan who tried to appear casual and unconcerned. Newkirk shook his head. "Andrew, I give you-all of you-my word. I won't challenge the gov. I have no plans to ever challenge but if I ever did, I swear I'd wait until the war was completely over. All right?"

Carter studied him then broke into an incredible smile. He hugged Newkirk again. Newkirk hugged him back then looked around. "You all worried about that?"

"Oui," LeBeau said.

"Some," Kinch said.

"Gov?" Newkirk asked, looking at Hogan. Hogan shrugged.

"It crossed my mind," Hogan admitted.

"I won't," Newkirk said. "Not that I could in this shape but I won't." He studied Hogan, body tense. "You wanted me to trust you, Rob. 'Ave faith with me on this."

Hogan tilted his head. "I believe you, Peter," he said. He walked the few steps to Newkirk and embraced him.

_Three weeks later_

Hogan watched as Kinch and Elsa talked softly in a corner. Gregori stepped over to him. "Your man is better," he said.

"Thanks to Stefan. We appreciate it."

"We are all werewolves. Besides, my daughter loves your Sergeant and I love her." He shrugged. "I do not know exactly what you do, Colonel, but I will help if I can."

Whisper walked into the house, nudged Hogan. "We have to go," Hogan said, hand resting on Whisper's head.

"Have a good night," Gregori said. Hogan nodded and walked outside. The thickly falling snow sprinkled Whisper's black coat. Hogan looked at Whisper. "You sure you're up to this?"

Whisper nodded and Hogan shook his head amusedly. "OK, we'll take it easy." Hogan hastily stripped, shoved his clothes in a bag. A shake and Ghost appeared. He gave a bark and Goliath, Joker, and Flicker appeared, aching for a run.

The pack trotted off, Whisper moving slower than the others. Ghost pressed his flank against Whisper and led the pack to a clearing where Joker and Goliath bounced off after a fleeing deer and Flicker and Whisper gently wrestled. Ghost stood watching.

He knew it wouldn't be easy-there was too much to do, too many decisions to make. He needed to find out more about Dachau and Hans' pack as well as Gregori and his family. Hochstetter certainly would be back and soon the invasion would happen.

Yet as Whisper walked over, nudging him, Ghost found none of the worries mattered at the moment. And for the first time, he allowed the worry to fully vanish. He had his pack and his men back at camp and he was happy. His family was complete. For now, he would live in the now.

Whisper rooted through the snow and tossed it at Ghost. Ghost snorted and pounced. Yes, the war could wait for now.


End file.
